"How are you bragging?"
"I fully reversed the bullying before school was over. I don't even know how I did it."
I would rather like to know how I went from "You think you're cool but you're really not," schoolwide pariah to "Leave Alrenous alone, they're cool," because as far as I know I didn't do anything. "Hey, are you going to the dance?" To be polite I'll say yes...
As you can see from the specific example, I still coded as 'victim' to those who weren't in the know. (Autism: hell of a drug.) I had completely lost my temper at a trainee teacher, which probably helped, but I don't see how any one incident could be significant enough. (Autist advice: you can REEEE advantageously, so do.)
Maybe journalists are made at age six (five in my case) unless they're unmade at fourteen? (And also unmade at age five, because I fixed that incident too? {By crying, ironically.})
Inspiration: @CovfefeAnon vs. No Opinion.
I really did take an internship at a newspaper. I did well and got a financial bonus. Wrote the (non-American ver) 401k plan article for the season, because even back then it was so obvious I was financially literate that it went without saying. I confirmed that work indeed completely differs from school. I also learned that only crazy folk do journalism; going into journalism instead of physics didn't even occur to me. I have met one person who was so fat they were literally spherical, as wide as he was tall; he was a journalist at that place. As in, the worst health outlier on this one dimension was a journalist. Presumably many worst health outliers are journalists.
While I'm bragging: the reason I know red pill game is correct is because I accidentally (before I read about it) tried it on one of my teachers and it worked perfectly. Negging is real; tried and tested. Only person in class to get 100%, twice. She dragged another teacher into complimenting one of them. This event completely baffled me until I read Roissy.
She also suggested I go into her subject in university. I very nearly killed her on the spot. I tried to hide the fact I was violently throttling her to death in my mind; probably succeeded, though I've failed at times in the past. Throttling would be too good for her anyway. Disgusting bitch.
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New failcomment system also fails to publish my comments, it's not limited to yours. Keep trying, it will usually work, eventually.
Blogger deliberately trying to kill itself, I expect.
Captchas should be off. If it gives you one anyway, it's against my explicit instructions.