Alpha Male Inside II

By | BOBBY SAMANTHA REY | ALPHA MALE INSIDE I | I was awakened by moaning and laughter coming from the darkness. The clock on the nite stand reads 05:01:26. Every day since my treatment plan began I have lost all relationship with reality. My mind can not capture the correct day, month or even the year in which I reside in. Sometimes, I feel like a political prisoner subject to serve propaganda and mind control which is subverting my though processes. As I stated earlier this treatment plan modalities would be real easy on the eyes and very hard on the heart and mind. Sammy, assures me that her success rate is 100 percent, as far as academic discussion goes. I have to concur with her at this point because I lost 100 pounds already. And starting to feel like moving and grooving with the ladies. You are thinking how do I know that this number is correct? Well Sammy and her team have developed an application for their technology stack. They take a picture with their phones and it accurately estimates the correct weight and BMI number with in 2 percent error rate. So, with last weeks weight loss numbers that put me around 1,450 pounds. As my subconscious file folder programing is slowly being replaced I am starting to feel normal again. But, those hot bitches, tell me hold up cowboy, we still have a ways to go to meet our treatment plans goals of 175 pounds. The numbers look like this: 175 pounds of man plus 300 pounds of excess skin, would put my weight at around 475 pounds so. now everything is starting to look real good. All of this math works out to about 975 more pounds to go, no small number by any stretch but with these 10 hot psycho bitches very doable. The Beat goes on, Sammy, and her team of hot psycho bitches are messing with my mind and are starving me, teasing me, by eating food while sitting on my chest. A real cute red head rocking short daisy dukes and a button down hootie top which has a few buttons missing, always asks me “would you really like to have some of this?”, while eating a real nice slice of deep pan pizza she just made. I cry out in mental anguish, ‘O’, God, ‘O’ God please help me. At this point, I still can not move very well only my fingers and my turkey gobbler. She gets real close to me and says “O.K. Cowboy do want a piece of me?” The aroma from her perfume and the deep pan pizza is enough to make me go insane. However, I am committed to task and harken back to my days in boot camp and Navy Seals training ( Kang Fo Do) which equals mind over matter and team work and nothing else. And I have to always remember that none of this is personal and that we are conducting a medically survivable treatment plan of the mind and body. By changing My subfolders, I can overcome any food temptations—to over eat.

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