First and foremost, I will tell you that this is not a joke like most other threads that start off this way. I'm being 100% real here, so listen up.

I began my journey of ascension by joining the local anime, gaming, and roleplaying clubs at my local community college. Now, I don't even go to college, since it's too costly for what it's worth, but I met so many great people with interesting and thought-provoking ideas there that I figured this was the best choice. But you may ask: why those three clubs? Why not sports, or photography, or any other, more useful pursuit? Well, my friends, as a long-time lurker on Inceltears, I recognized straight away that so-called "geek" and "nerd" hobbies are "in" these days for people who get laid. After all, why would sexually unsuccessful people join and participate in a subreddit made to mock sexually unsuccessful people? So, that's what I did, and I don't regret it for a second.

But that was only the first step. After all, Rome was not built in a day, and neither was Chad. So, I read books and watched movies. Lots of them. Luckily for me, we are living in an age where writers and authors will go completely out of their way to include women and LGBTQ+ people wherever they can, even at the expense of basic storytelling, so straight away, I was able to build the level of empathy I could have for women and minorities. It was hard, as I very often felt that I was reading and watching mediocre fanfiction for Harry Potter and A Song of Ice and Fire, but it was worth the grind. I thought I'd known so much about these people already from my own real life experiences with them, but little did I know that I was only looking at them through a white cis-het patriarchal lens, which had blinded me to the undeniable fact that niggers are people, too. Now, I know the truth: that it is not niggers who are subhuman, but rather, white cis-het males such as myself.

Now, don't think my path to getting laid was all about escapism through people and worlds that don't really exist. I also hit the gym. Yes, indeed. After some time browsing the fitness sub-board on 4chan, I learned that neophytes like myself were best served with a simple compound-based weight training regimen and a protein-rich diet. So, that's what I did. I started the "Starting Strength" and "Go Mad" routines laid out by a fitness guru known as Mark Rippletits. And let me tell you, they don't call him "Rippletits" for nothing, for thanks to this genius routine where about 80% of my training goes to my thighs and glutes, and this diet where I eat generous amounts of tofu and soy milk (based on feedback from my friends at the community college) every day, my bitchtits have never been more well-endowed. Though, like my increasingly flabby rear end, my confidence has only expanded, as they look vaguely like pecs in dim lighting, under a pair of shirts.

Slowly, gradually, but most definitely, I saw the fruits of my labor bloom. Every day, I would look in the mirror and see how I had changed. My jawline had grown and sharpened. My legs had gained several inches in length. My cheekbones rose, and my eyes had developed that "hooded" look that so many male models have. The sheer personality emanating from me was palpable.

Then, one day, I met the woman who would take my virginity at the tender age of 32. A voluptuous Indian girl, about 300 pounds of pure acne-covered grace. Everything about her smote me. The way grease and sweat rolled down her receding hairline. The way her large cheeks and chins jiggled when she laughed. The way that, while she waddled from place to place, she breathed like Darth Vader. This gorgeous, healthy woman of color looked at me and smiled. Smiled! So, I went up to her, and after a long talk about how Donald Drumpf will bring about the apocalypse, I asked for her number and she gave it to me. Twenty dates later (all of which I paid for, as the female protagonists in my books or movies ever paid money for things), we crawled into her bed together, made out passionately, and with her strap-on, she pounded my asshole like a demon possessed. I cried out in pain with every thrust. By the end of it, my bed was drenched in blood and feces, but as a white cis-het male oppressor, I kinda deserve that. All that mattered was that I was no longer an incel. That I, through the power of personality and respecting women, had won.

I'm sorry if this was a bit long, but I just had to get that out there. Hopefully, you guys take inspiration from my inspiring story.

Peace.