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My Dr. is a moron. A real dolt. I'm 5-11,

  • My Dr. is a moron. A real dolt. I'm 5-11, 260 and he prescribes me fat pills. Literally the oil from a fish with some kinda lambda 7s or some such bullroar. I laughed in his face

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  • but inside, my self-esteem was shattered. Could these fish pills really help me lose weight? I read the prescription directions: Take 1 every 12 hours. I didn't have time for that,

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  • so I decided it was better to love my body and eat a balanced diet with plenty of fresh fruit and veggies especially green leafy veg and exercise regularly. My daily walks to

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  • Prague and back melted the pounds off, but it began to interfere with my day job at Fitness+. They said I could telecommute, but people died from texting and walking! I had some de

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  • ep, deep thoughts about the arrangement of the equipment at Fitness+ but they didn't want to know because they spoke Czech only. They said "Que" in Spanish whenever I spoke. Why?

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  • They pointed at their mouths and opened them saying things like, "Ahhhhh." Why? They scattered like frightened rats when I raised my desert eagle and pointed it at their Czech

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  • asses. Now I was alone with my gun and the boredom quickly drove me insane. I started playing Russian roulette with myself but this being a desert eagle the game wont last long.

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  • Get a hold of yourself. Just lay the gun down and walk away. Lost and alone I knew my mind would play tricks on me. I saw something moving in the sand. When I looked at it, it

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  • poked an eye back, but upon making eye contact, it immediately shied away. I got curious. I stepped closer, and it's little stringy eyeball poked further through the sand.

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  • "Hello?", I spoke nervously, as the stringy eye became much more. The monster rose out of the golden sand and let out a humungous roar, before finally eating me whole.

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