Top 5 Tales of Woe

Angst-Ridden Teens | Terrible Twenties 
Three hOrrific
| Forgettable Forties  
Feeble Fifties | Herpes Sucks 


Feeble Fifties

I turned my face into a pile of mush and blood (5/19/00)  - John, Dallas, Age 51

I used to have potential. I was about to graduate from high school when I got drafted. It blew because I was a 4.0 student who was getting ready to attend a certain prestigious school in Berkeley California. I was good looking and had a hot girlfriend who I fucked on a regular basis. Like a fuckhead I joined the marines. I went through basic training in South Carolina and was off to Nam. My first week there my company went on a search and destroy mission for a NVA ammo dump. To make a long story short a mortar blew up two feet in front of me. It turned my face into a pile of mush and blood and tore my right arm off. To add to that I got a nice sharp piece of shrapnel stuck in my intestines. I spent 7 months in the fucking hospital before I got shipped back. Needless to say, my 'friends' slowly but surely removed themselves from my life. I had to learn how to write left handed and since there was a hole in my colon I could no longer control my bowel movements. Flash backs fucked up my mind and I dropped outta school. Because of my fucked up face and body I could only find work as a graveyard shift janitor. I mean maintenance man. I am still scarred like a motherfucker and have cancer. I live in a creepy one bed room apartment with my one love, my cat. I now work as a webmaster with my specially made keyboard (I went back to school a few years back). I spend most of my time in my bedroom/work room on this damn computer. I long for death. Ever since I was 19 my life has been a living hell. I am old, sick, one armed and look like the elephant man. The only thing I can look forward to is the day when I am put out of my suffering.


The most deforming was the lip augmentation (11/13/99) - JR, Tampa, FL, Age 60+

Being over the hill and face sagging to my midriff, I had a face lift including the following: Total face lift where they pull up your jowls and tuck it behind your ears, brow lift where they go up above your hairline and chisel down to your brows and pull it up, eye lids where they take out a slip of skin and sew it back together, laser around my lips to get rid of the prune lines and, lastly, BUT the most deforming was the lip augmentation!  The lip augmentation consisted of taking some of the dermal fat they sucked out of my sagging jowls and implanted it into my lips by a "threading" method.  Well, there was some improvement, but not enough considering the price!  Over $12,000!  The lip job sucked.  They were way too BIG! and then they progressed to develop cysts and became even larger and harder and painful.  Then, I developed what they called "sterile abscesses."  Also quite painful! Got questions about it?  Just ask me.....


Sporting life  - Rich, Florida, Age 51

I am 51 and all I do is sit around and think of the Oakland Raiders. My wife gets pissed at me every weekend when I go to a sports bar and watch the game and when they lose I get really pissed all week.


I still love the bitch (10/18/99)  - Jacob, California, Age 51

After a big fight, my old lady moved out.  We had lived together for 8 1/2 years. About two weeks later my public storage shed was broken into.  Everything was taken, including $10,000 cash that I kept there.  No other storage shed was broken into, just mine. Only two people even knew I had a storage shed, me and my old lady.  She must have thought that I would kill her if I found her because a few days later I was raided by the police for possession for sales of pot. According to the police report, she told them that in the 8 1/2y ears we had lived together, I had made my living selling pot. I ended up losing everything I owned, and was sentenced to six years in state prison.  I'm out now.  I still love the bitch.


I regret not having killed myself (2/15/00)  - Rex, Baltimore, Age 52

You want to know what real depression is?  Not merely being suicidal, but regretting that I didn't kill myself 30 years ago.  You might suppose that killing myself today would be a sufficient end of the suffering, but if it had happened 30 years ago then there still would have been someone to mourn me (my parents, both now dead). And someone might have said: "He would have done very well if only he had stayed alive."   Now there's nobody to remember me, or at least to think I might have some potential.

Although I am mostly the cause of my misfortune there were, at various times, some people who trashed my life in very serious ways; a surgeon who bungled a simple operation that left me in chronic pain (which nobody believed was more than psychosomatic) - until ten years later I came into some money and could pay for a good surgeon to repair the damage. There was a big shot who blacklisted me from any job in my line of training for nearly a decade ... with the result that I could never pick up those pieces and had to retrain for a much inferior vocation; there were periods when I went hungry and homeless and I realize now that if I had killed him when he did that to me I would have been guaranteed three meals a day and a roof over my head for all the time since, and I might even have been released by now with two or three charities waiting at the prison gate to help make sure that I would not be hungry or homeless again.   Imagine how wretched a person would have to be to regret NOT having killed himself or killed someone else years ago!

Top 5 Tales of Woe

Angst-Ridden Teens | Terrible Twenties 
Three hOrrific
| Forgettable Forties  
Feeble Fifties | Herpes Sucks 


 

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