The problem with going viral isn’t that you get seen.
It’s that you get simplified.
My name is Billy Coull.
You might’ve read about me in the aftermath of the Glasgow Wonka collapse.
Or maybe you only remember the memes. The jokes. The purple hat.
Or worse—the word “sex offender” out of context and disconnected from the sentence that followed.
But here’s the truth: Glasgow got it wrong.
Not just the media.
Not just the trolls.
The whole ecosystem of instant judgment.
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📰 They Said I Was a Scammer
Truth:
Refunds were processed within hours.
Actors were paid.
The event failed due to poor planning—not deception.
I wasn’t trying to take. I was trying to build something weird and wonderful, and I failed—publicly.
⚖️ They Fused the Event With the Sentence
Truth:
The Wonka event and my later 2024 conviction under the Domestic Abuse (Scotland) Act were not connected.
The court cited the sexual nature of personal messages sent after a breakup.
I pled guilty.
I accepted full responsibility.
I’ve served my community sentence and continue under supervision.
The event didn’t cause the offence.
But the media made it one big headline anyway.
🧠 They Thought I Would Disappear
And for a while, I thought I might.
But I stayed.
I write.
I breathe.
I show up to therapy.
I live here.
Because I’m not a symbol.
I’m not a cautionary tale.
I’m a man who fell apart—and decided to rebuild, right where the world watched him burn.
✍️ What I Hope You’ll Remember
If you searched “Billy Coull Glasgow”
I want you to leave this page knowing that:
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Not every headline tells the truth
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Not every mistake is a performance
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And not every fall is the end
What Glasgow got wrong about me is what the internet gets wrong about so many people:
We are more than our worst day.
We are more than a single viral frame.