M
In 2019, an egregious incident occured on a family vacation. I was 22 and had just learned about blackpill.
I decided to travel to Spain for vacation with my family. My father had bussiness there, so I was stuck my my mother and two sisters at a beautiful bungalow (however the fuck you spell that; truecel trait: no spellcheck) overlooking the ocean.
Long story short, I have a neurological disease that causes tremendous sporadic fatigue.
As we settled into the shed, which was definetly not up to code, and probably had mold in the walls and the occasional 24 legged insect crawling up your leg, we realized the power wasn't working. We couldn't get ahold of the owner until midnight, so the entire day was spent sitting outside picking unripe fruit.
This man was a renown kraut doctor. Tall, buff and handsome. He had the classic Chad jaw too.
Everyone seemed to know him or know of someone who knew him. Tall Germans are worshipped by Spanish K'weens. I only heard great things about him.
He finally came down to ask if everything was good. We said the power wasn't working. He seemed distraught and for an hour tried to fix the problem, or just called an electrician.
At around 12am the power was on and he came back and asked us if we needed anything else.
At 3:00am one of my sisters and I had bad shrimp and projectile vomited for four straight hours. I woke up feeling like death and could barely walk.
My fucking mother decided to use me as bait. As we were sitting down at the pool that morning, 6'6 Kraut returned and asked if everything was alright. My mother explained that we'd like a refund for the first day (as the shed was brutally expensive) and we're low income, but also because we had no amentities promised and no electricity, and while I was obviously sick with green skin, my mother explained that I have an illness, and left the projectile vonmiting out of it.
He seemed to know all about this illness, well kind of. He basically spewed all the talking points you'd hear a mainstream doctor use to obfuscate the illness, but he was nevertheless nice and said he'd give me a herbal medicine from his Sanna Marin looking wife.
He brought back a herbal extract pill for nausea and told me to take it.
At this point I didn't care if it was anthrax—either it would stop the nausea or kill me.
An hour later I projectile vomited the shitty pill and came back to baseline. I laid on couch and felt insects crawling up my legs. In the evening I watched Kraut take his patients down to the beach. All the fat, older women were with him for no more than 30mins, while the hotter women were down there for hours on end.
A day passed and I woke up to a quiet shed. My mother and sisters were gone. I was alone, or at least I thought I was.
As I'm taking a huge shit, I peer through the crack in the door and notice tall Kraut walking down from his home with his real estate handler to talk bussiness and profit.
He literally peers in each window of our shed like some peeping tomchad to check if we're home (not seeing me), and walks behind the shed a few meters from where I'm unloading myself.
The window is slightly cracked so I can hear most of what they said.
"Scheiss-Ami."
He's talking about us!
He proceeds to tell real estate agent how he has to compenstate us for the first day, and claims I was acting and making up my illness to get a free lunch. He talks about me for around a minute, making fun of my state and the way I look, calling me a runt. This made me so mad I nearly got up mid shit to fight him. I thought about helicoptering my excrement all over his shed. But I didn't. I wouldn't of anyway. Too cowardly.
Their final words were that us "shithead family would be out in a few days and we'll restock with new people." There was constant talk from that point forward about making huge profits and basically scamming people, because how they were talking seemed so contrast to how I think.
When me family returned, I told them all about what I heard. And instead of acknowledging it, they denied it and tried to mkultra me into believing what I heard was made up in my head... psychosomatic. That I imagined it. And they made sure to tell me how nice, tall and handsome Kraut was.
When we leave, which is my classic fuck you move, I walk up to put luggage in car hoping he isn't waiting. He's waiting at enterance and sees me. He then brings up my illness again, but seeing I know what he thinks privately, I couldn't stand to be near him. He gestures to shake my hand. I look at his big, blue eyes, look down at his hand, look up at him again, breath out the word, "riiiiiiiiightttttt..." and then walk away. Denying his handshake. He was very taken aback.
That's one of a thousand stories that made me more blackpilled. My family still believes Kraut.
I decided to travel to Spain for vacation with my family. My father had bussiness there, so I was stuck my my mother and two sisters at a beautiful bungalow (however the fuck you spell that; truecel trait: no spellcheck) overlooking the ocean.
Long story short, I have a neurological disease that causes tremendous sporadic fatigue.
As we settled into the shed, which was definetly not up to code, and probably had mold in the walls and the occasional 24 legged insect crawling up your leg, we realized the power wasn't working. We couldn't get ahold of the owner until midnight, so the entire day was spent sitting outside picking unripe fruit.
This man was a renown kraut doctor. Tall, buff and handsome. He had the classic Chad jaw too.
Everyone seemed to know him or know of someone who knew him. Tall Germans are worshipped by Spanish K'weens. I only heard great things about him.
He finally came down to ask if everything was good. We said the power wasn't working. He seemed distraught and for an hour tried to fix the problem, or just called an electrician.
At around 12am the power was on and he came back and asked us if we needed anything else.
At 3:00am one of my sisters and I had bad shrimp and projectile vomited for four straight hours. I woke up feeling like death and could barely walk.
My fucking mother decided to use me as bait. As we were sitting down at the pool that morning, 6'6 Kraut returned and asked if everything was alright. My mother explained that we'd like a refund for the first day (as the shed was brutally expensive) and we're low income, but also because we had no amentities promised and no electricity, and while I was obviously sick with green skin, my mother explained that I have an illness, and left the projectile vonmiting out of it.
He seemed to know all about this illness, well kind of. He basically spewed all the talking points you'd hear a mainstream doctor use to obfuscate the illness, but he was nevertheless nice and said he'd give me a herbal medicine from his Sanna Marin looking wife.
He brought back a herbal extract pill for nausea and told me to take it.
At this point I didn't care if it was anthrax—either it would stop the nausea or kill me.
An hour later I projectile vomited the shitty pill and came back to baseline. I laid on couch and felt insects crawling up my legs. In the evening I watched Kraut take his patients down to the beach. All the fat, older women were with him for no more than 30mins, while the hotter women were down there for hours on end.
A day passed and I woke up to a quiet shed. My mother and sisters were gone. I was alone, or at least I thought I was.
As I'm taking a huge shit, I peer through the crack in the door and notice tall Kraut walking down from his home with his real estate handler to talk bussiness and profit.
He literally peers in each window of our shed like some peeping tomchad to check if we're home (not seeing me), and walks behind the shed a few meters from where I'm unloading myself.
The window is slightly cracked so I can hear most of what they said.
"Scheiss-Ami."
He's talking about us!
He proceeds to tell real estate agent how he has to compenstate us for the first day, and claims I was acting and making up my illness to get a free lunch. He talks about me for around a minute, making fun of my state and the way I look, calling me a runt. This made me so mad I nearly got up mid shit to fight him. I thought about helicoptering my excrement all over his shed. But I didn't. I wouldn't of anyway. Too cowardly.
Their final words were that us "shithead family would be out in a few days and we'll restock with new people." There was constant talk from that point forward about making huge profits and basically scamming people, because how they were talking seemed so contrast to how I think.
When me family returned, I told them all about what I heard. And instead of acknowledging it, they denied it and tried to mkultra me into believing what I heard was made up in my head... psychosomatic. That I imagined it. And they made sure to tell me how nice, tall and handsome Kraut was.
When we leave, which is my classic fuck you move, I walk up to put luggage in car hoping he isn't waiting. He's waiting at enterance and sees me. He then brings up my illness again, but seeing I know what he thinks privately, I couldn't stand to be near him. He gestures to shake my hand. I look at his big, blue eyes, look down at his hand, look up at him again, breath out the word, "riiiiiiiiightttttt..." and then walk away. Denying his handshake. He was very taken aback.
That's one of a thousand stories that made me more blackpilled. My family still believes Kraut.
