not to beat a dead disk horse nor give my favorite sports journalist a backhanded compliment but its absolutely absurd how long self described trans allies on here were getting outflanked by John Bois
I want to be forcefully pet by at least two people. Like the way a group of people will gang up on a dog and pet it real hard and it loves it? I need that in my life. I need to not be able to keep track of the hands on my body.
Girl I felt faint writing it
This is the energy we’re going for btw. Except like… more hands…
Artist is sugarcollars on instagram btw.
Bringing this one back because I just found it randomly on my dash
After years of estrangement you’re forced back into close proximity to your dear friend from childhood. Separated by everything you did, you failed her before and now you have to be by her side.
You know the world will hurt her, has hurt her. You need to protect her. But the only way you can think of to protect her is make her like you.
So you have her commit violence, the urge that has always been there in the back of your mind.
Then you have her hurt herself. The pain always brings clarity to you. You can do what needs to be done. The knife grows dull without use, so might as well use it on yourself.
Finally she completes the journey to become you, someone she cares about is hurt. Missing but still there. And it’s her doing.
Isn’t this great? You finally are able to bond with her. Childhood sweethearts coming together you’re able to become stronger with her and the two of you will never allow the world to hurt either of you ever again. You’ve even given her a ring.
Then the cold light of day comes, and the other part of you is horrified at what you’ve done.
You try and fix it, you use the pain to give you the strength needed. It’s hard, it’s painful, but she doesn’t think it’s real. You need to convince her it isn’t real. It was all in a fantasy. You paper over everything, take the ring, return her watch, all to make sure she can believe it never happened.
Then the next day comes, and she approaches you. She has never approached you before. It had always been you, in those fleeting moments of conversation.
The worst case happens. She talks about last night. You told her not to you asked her to act like it never happened.
She’s getting closer and closer to you. She’s showing more interest in you than she has in years.
And she says “You’re back.”
You’re back? You’re Back!? She thinks your half-assed lies about it being a dream was the real you!?!?
It all comes roaring back, part of you wants to stop her but the other half forces it down. She’s betrayed your trust. She wants you to be weak. You try and stop yourself but you can’t. She’s close enough to kiss you and you remember the ring.
Who’s going to hear, she asks? You have just one answer.
After years of estrangement you’re forced back into close proximity to your dear friend from childhood. Separated by everything you did, you failed her before and now you have to be by her side.
You know the world will hurt her, has hurt her. You need to protect her. But the only way you can think of to protect her is make her like you.
So you have her commit violence, the urge that has always been there in the back of your mind.
Then you have her hurt herself. The pain always brings clarity to you. You can do what needs to be done. The knife grows dull without use, so might as well use it on yourself.
Finally she completes the journey to become you, someone she cares about is hurt. Missing but still there. And it’s her doing.
Isn’t this great? You finally are able to bond with her. Childhood sweethearts coming together you’re able to become stronger with her and the two of you will never allow the world to hurt either of you ever again. You’ve even given her a ring.
Then the cold light of day comes, and the other part of you is horrified at what you’ve done.
You try and fix it, you use the pain to give you the strength needed. It’s hard, it’s painful, but she doesn’t think it’s real. You need to convince her it isn’t real. It was all in a fantasy. You paper over everything, take the ring, return her watch, all to make sure she can believe it never happened.
Then the next day comes, and she approaches you. She has never approached you before. It had always been you, in those fleeting moments of conversation.
The worst case happens. She talks about last night. You told her not to you asked her to act like it never happened.
She’s getting closer and closer to you. She’s showing more interest in you than she has in years.
And she says “You’re back.”
You’re back? You’re Back!? She thinks your half-assed lies about it being a dream was the real you!?!?
It all comes roaring back, part of you wants to stop her but the other half forces it down. She’s betrayed your trust. She wants you to be weak. You try and stop yourself but you can’t. She’s close enough to kiss you and you remember the ring.
Who’s going to hear, she asks? You have just one answer.
Very explicitly, in the video, the regular police straight up lie to the couple, telling them they will go to jail for harboring a fugitive if they dont hand the doordasher over, and that it doesnt matter if ice has a warrant for her arrest. NEITHER OF THESE THINGS ARE TRUE. You CANNOT be harboring a fugitive if the person you are haboring doesnt have a warrant out for their arrest! The warrant is what makes them a fugitive!
If ice wants access to someone on your property, do NOT hand them over unless you are shown a warrant signed by a judge! Make as much noise as you can to attract bystanders - it was the fact that a crowd gathered and started yelling at them that made ice leave in the video. And DO NOT expect the regular police to help you - they are just another arm of the state and will only do or say whatever they think is necessary to make you comply.
And make sure you film everything so you have evidence of what really happened if ice tries to enter your property illegally.
0/10 - 2/10 overrated and overused. 1/10 - 7/10 strong indication of contempt, decisive. 2/10 - 6/10 slightly weaker statement than the above. less communicatively efficacious. 3/10 - 9/10 requires thought to interpret, negative but measured. 4/10 - 5/10 hard to distinguish from 5 or 6 but the commitment to negative affect is at least clarifying. 5/10 -5/10 its fine. 6/10 - 3/10 as above but like weakly positive, also beginning to veer into, 7/10 - 0/10 total significatory black hole. completely useless as an indication of any opinion whatsoever. 8/10 - 4/10 we are still emerging from the hole 7 blasted in discursivity. 9/10 - 9/10 great! 10/10 - 8/10 bit overused but nice to know a straightforward recommendation when you see one.
to be frank i doubt a “posting tendril” would soften and lose function if estrogenized. itd only get more effective, and the associated gland would increase in size and function. because girls post better
When trans women are mocked and made into jokes in the media, I get very upset, and I am often told “Kay, you can’t go through life getting offended every time someone makes a joke.” And I sputter and object but they don’t hear me. So I want to be clear for once, about why the jokes make me angry.
I learned to hate myself for being transgender before I knew I was transgender. I laughed at the jokes in stand up comedy routines, and prime time sitcoms, and animated comedy shows, and in the movies, and in books, and in games, laughing at trans women for existing, about “men in dresses”, about people who “got their dicks chopped off”, and I learned to think that was worthy of ridicule.
And then a day came when I felt a pang of envy at what my female classmates were wearing and I repressed it, and felt guilty, and a day where I felt incomplete because I had no breasts and I repressed it and I felt disgusting And a day when I realized the only images of romance that made me feel anything showed two women together and I repressed it and I felt like a monster And a day when I realized I felt sick when I looked at myself in the mirror after every shower before work and couldn’t bear to look at my own face, and I hated myself. And then there came a day when I hated myself so much, and I thought I could never understand why, and so I just wanted it all to end. And it was just a miracle that I swerved my car back into my lane in time.
And all of it started with a joke that I heard on TV, and then kept hearing from all the voices from the ether, over and over and over, worming an idea into my mind before I was old enough to realize I was absorbing it, the idea that a man in a dress is funny, and that changing your body parts makes you a freak, and that women who have penises instead of vaginas are liars and hurt men. And they’re still making these jokes. And somewhere out there right now, just like all those years ago, there is a little girl in a t-shirt and cargo shorts with buzzed off hair watching the TV, hearing that joke and absorbing it without knowing it, who will someday have to pry herself apart to tear it out of her head, just like I did.
That is, if she doesn’t kill herself first.
I know this is a really heavy post but if you read it and you appreciated it, I’d appreciate it in return if you reblogged it. This is really important to me and I want people to read it and understand it. Thank you.
We’re a second-gen, regenerative farm in St Lawrence County, New York. For 23 years, the farm was managed by my parents, but in 2023, management was transferred to me - 113.5 acres, 20 cows, three greenhouses, two gardens, nine pigs, 17 sheep and 36 chickens. As the last living family members, my father and I’ve been working the farm together, trying to scale down and rest more, for the past three years. Due to the sheer size of the undertaking, along with my father’s disabilities, I made the management decision to welcome two friends ( @theartistrans ) I hope will someday become equal partners here.
However, their welcome to the farm has coincided with a total shitshow. Shortly after their arrival, I was struck by a milk truck and landed in the hospital with a broken ankle, concussion, and a totaled car. Our already faulty stove took a nosedive, and then the electricity in our house went out. We are now without heat, running water, electricity, or a way to prepare food; we are all crammed into my father’s house and tensions are running high.
We have both long and short-term goals. I am committed to this farm no matter what. I’m not moving to Canada or selling off chunks of land. I - we - want to improve the infrastructure, protect the endangered species here and create social sanctuary for the greater queer community. We are also in a time of major transitions, and so must address basic needs and immediate concerns.
Immediate Concerns:
Our house’s primary electric line needs to be replaced. It’s over 60 years old; a necessary upgrade to a safe system. We then need to either repair or replace the old gas cooking stove. We need to be able to stabilize the farm, which includes both human and animal care. This means grain costs, hay costs, household bills, taxes, and seed costs.
Meeting this goal will enable us to continue running the farm, protect the land and its native species, create a greater sanctuary for the queer community, and ensure our own safety and warmth. Please dm me or @theartistrans for proof or further information. My totaled car can be seen below.
$100 has been received to the GFM from a personal friend, but nothing else has been received yet in regards to this. We got a quote yesterday from the electrician and it’s going to be $3,500.00 for the up front payment, $4,500.00 total. It is hard to overstate the urgency of all of this - the house needs to be maintained to survive the Winter here, and it’s not currently livable.
if all of you gave me one (1) US Dollar a month V and I could afford food and an apartment. And then I could continue to be funny and cute on the internet and stream more often without worrying about everything all the time. That’s kinda nuts.
reblogging again bc i updated my ko-fi username and the link stopped working, but i fixed it! the link above still works. now back to your previously recorded message:
there’s a neat little toggle to set up a small recurring monthly payment, if anyone wants to be a patron of the shitposting arts.
ALT
