thecel
narrow-orbits brachy-skull ogre
- Joined
- May 16, 2020
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Manually typed intro
Eugene is an utter truecel of an incel. He’s short, narrow, balding, and facially boneless. In his 45 miserable virgin years of existence, he neither touched a female’s hand nor exited the basement. One day, Eugene woke up at 3:00 p.m and pondered whether or not he should put his previously-tied rope to its proper use.
AI-generated continuation
But he quickly figured out that he didn’t have the necessary talent. Then he stumbled into the living room where he found his phone’s Facebook Messenger and saw that there were no messages in his conversation box. Eugene didn’t even realize that Facebook had been updated, as he was under the impression that Facebook Messenger didn’t exist until 2019. The real world was suddenly too dangerous for him, so he locked the front door, crawled into his bed, and took the lid off of a box of crack cocaine. He started to smoke a small amount of the substance, and immediately began to choke. By 4:00 p.m., Eugene was dead. “I would have been alive today,” he thought. And then he was dead. Eugene knew that the incel community had begun to embrace the incel lifestyle in the previous week or so. He also knew that the movement to “kill all incels” had been gaining steam since December 2017, and that this year saw the greatest number of incel attacks. To his credit, Eugene didn’t participate in the incel lifestyle and wasn’t even sure what an incel was. “I’ve read a few articles on how incels are so angry and hate women and gays and shit,” he said to his parents, “but I’m not angry and I don’t hate women and gays.” He was just doing drugs and had just smoked a little bit of them. “I need to do some kind of outreach before this shit escalates,” he thought. “Let’s see what happens next week.” Eugene’s parents weren’t too thrilled when he asked them to help him with his outreach. “I’m not sure how he got into this,” they thought, “but I’m gonna have to try to save him from his drug addiction.” “I’ll just be outside when they get home,” they told him. “See what happens.”
At exactly 5:00 p.m., Eugene’s parents were eating a meal. “Eugene,” his mother said to her son, “please stop smoking crack and get ready to go to your job.” Eugene’s parents didn’t like to be in the position of the bad guys, and this was especially true because Eugene had tried to commit suicide when he was 15 years old. “If this kid had made any attempt to talk to us about his problems, we’d still have him here,” his father said. “But he’s only asking for money and drugs.” Eugene’s parents had a few problems with his choice of living situation. Eugene didn’t share a bathroom with them, and the apartment was an apartment that was for rent, not for staying in. “I’m just a college student,” Eugene’s mother said. “I can’t possibly pay for a place for him to live.” But Eugene was a college student, and there were plenty of jobs available to him at the time. “All I need is one night a week to meet people,” Eugene said. “Then if it goes well, I’ll find more nights.” Eugene’s parents believed that their son would get a good job. But he had to show them that he’d been rehabilitated. “This isn’t the first time this kid has pulled this,” his father said, “and he’s already been to rehab a couple times. We can’t just give him money and drugs anymore.” So on this particular night, Eugene was going to walk down to the corner to meet a girl. She was actually his cousin, but he was only going to try to talk to her for a while. When the parents got home, Eugene had met his cousin, but he hadn’t met any other girls. “This is ridiculous,” his father said, “but I’m not sure if Eugene’s even met a girl in two months.” After eating dinner, Eugene’s parents got him into the car. It was already dark outside. Eugene sat in the backseat and started to cry. “I’m not gonna meet a girl tonight,” he told them. “I know,” his father said, “and you’re gonna go straight home.” “But I’m not really sure that it” “I said, ‘Eugene,” “But I’m gonna be okay. I’m not in a bad place.” “I know,” his father said, “but it’s already dark out. The roads are dangerous. You’ll be safer staying here.” He felt bad, but his parents understood.
Manually typed intro
Eugene is an utter truecel of an incel. He’s short, narrow, balding, and facially boneless. In his 45 miserable virgin years of existence, he neither touched a female’s hand nor exited the basement. One day, Eugene woke up at 3:00 p.m and pondered whether or not he should put his previously-tied rope to its proper use.
AI-generated continuation
But he quickly figured out that he didn’t have the necessary talent. Then he stumbled into the living room where he found his phone’s Facebook Messenger and saw that there were no messages in his conversation box. Eugene didn’t even realize that Facebook had been updated, as he was under the impression that Facebook Messenger didn’t exist until 2019. The real world was suddenly too dangerous for him, so he locked the front door, crawled into his bed, and took the lid off of a box of crack cocaine. He started to smoke a small amount of the substance, and immediately began to choke. By 4:00 p.m., Eugene was dead. “I would have been alive today,” he thought. And then he was dead. Eugene knew that the incel community had begun to embrace the incel lifestyle in the previous week or so. He also knew that the movement to “kill all incels” had been gaining steam since December 2017, and that this year saw the greatest number of incel attacks. To his credit, Eugene didn’t participate in the incel lifestyle and wasn’t even sure what an incel was. “I’ve read a few articles on how incels are so angry and hate women and gays and shit,” he said to his parents, “but I’m not angry and I don’t hate women and gays.” He was just doing drugs and had just smoked a little bit of them. “I need to do some kind of outreach before this shit escalates,” he thought. “Let’s see what happens next week.” Eugene’s parents weren’t too thrilled when he asked them to help him with his outreach. “I’m not sure how he got into this,” they thought, “but I’m gonna have to try to save him from his drug addiction.” “I’ll just be outside when they get home,” they told him. “See what happens.”
At exactly 5:00 p.m., Eugene’s parents were eating a meal. “Eugene,” his mother said to her son, “please stop smoking crack and get ready to go to your job.” Eugene’s parents didn’t like to be in the position of the bad guys, and this was especially true because Eugene had tried to commit suicide when he was 15 years old. “If this kid had made any attempt to talk to us about his problems, we’d still have him here,” his father said. “But he’s only asking for money and drugs.” Eugene’s parents had a few problems with his choice of living situation. Eugene didn’t share a bathroom with them, and the apartment was an apartment that was for rent, not for staying in. “I’m just a college student,” Eugene’s mother said. “I can’t possibly pay for a place for him to live.” But Eugene was a college student, and there were plenty of jobs available to him at the time. “All I need is one night a week to meet people,” Eugene said. “Then if it goes well, I’ll find more nights.” Eugene’s parents believed that their son would get a good job. But he had to show them that he’d been rehabilitated. “This isn’t the first time this kid has pulled this,” his father said, “and he’s already been to rehab a couple times. We can’t just give him money and drugs anymore.” So on this particular night, Eugene was going to walk down to the corner to meet a girl. She was actually his cousin, but he was only going to try to talk to her for a while. When the parents got home, Eugene had met his cousin, but he hadn’t met any other girls. “This is ridiculous,” his father said, “but I’m not sure if Eugene’s even met a girl in two months.” After eating dinner, Eugene’s parents got him into the car. It was already dark outside. Eugene sat in the backseat and started to cry. “I’m not gonna meet a girl tonight,” he told them. “I know,” his father said, “and you’re gonna go straight home.” “But I’m not really sure that it” “I said, ‘Eugene,” “But I’m gonna be okay. I’m not in a bad place.” “I know,” his father said, “but it’s already dark out. The roads are dangerous. You’ll be safer staying here.” He felt bad, but his parents understood.
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marvelous story 
