Curious and unusual deaths online dating
When I was younger – and I mean from teeanger hood all the way until about three years ago – I was a ‘nice guy’.
And I said the same thing as every other nice guy, which is “I am a nice guy, how come girls don’t like me?
He was working two full-time minimum wage jobs, living off cheap noodles so he could save some money in the bank, trying to scrape a little bit of cash together.
Unfortunately, he’d had a breakdown (see: him being in a psychiatric hospital), he was probably going to lose his jobs, and everything was coming tumbling down around him.
But later that night I was browsing the Internet and I was reminded of what the worse response humanly possible.
And I’m still not sure what a good response to his question would have been.
This topic is personally enraging to me and I don’t promise I can treat it fairly.] I recently had a patient, a black guy from the worst part of Detroit, let’s call him Dan, who was telling me of his woes.
He came from a really crappy family with a lot of problems, but he was trying really hard to make good.
Second, I had yet another patient who – (I feel obligated to say at this point that the specific details of these patient stories are made up, and several of them are composites of multiple different people, in order to protect confidentiality.
I’m preserving the general gist, nothing more) – I had a patient, let’s call him ‘Henry’ for reasons that are to become clear, who came to hospital after being picked up for police for beating up his fifth wife.