1. My guess is that “sex” has nothing to do with it.

      It’s (((novelty whoring))) in the (((inimitable style))) of the (((fashion industry))).


  1. THIS is why we had bullies… Remember those days? When you did something freaky and the bigger kids made fun of you.. and if you did it a 2nd time they punched you… and you never did it again… And there were Fireworks on the 4th of July and Santa Claus came to the good boys and girls… and we celebrated birthdays and anniversaries… BUT NO MORE, It’s just the freak of the week who cries themselves to sleep every night because “Daddy didn’t love them…” FTW!


    1. I remember when it was taught in schools that Christopher Columbus discovered America, Native Americans were called Indians, and the word slut meant something negative. Those were the days…


    1. Russia knows that, which is why they haven’t nuked us yet. They know if they sit back and let the lunatics run the asylum, in 20 years they will be able to conquer us without firing a shot, because the populace will be a bunch of low IQ, mixed race gender fluid femboys, obese Tumblrina feminists, and 12th generation ghetto welfare leeches, who wouldn’t care who ruled over them as long as their EBT/welfare cards were replenished every 2 weeks.


    1. Completely honest — I have nothing against people like Brendan. I really don’t. Live and let live. In my experience, femmy boys were bullied in pre-adolesence and then pretty much ignored/avoided by boys and men from then on. Live and let live. In present year America, it is no longer enough to live and let live. Oh no.

      Unless you, as a heterosexual cis white man, are taking steps to positively celebrate them and their “courage” (or whatever virtue their public flouncing about is supposed to demonstrate), you are an evil asshole who needs reeducation post haste. If, however, you are black, and or Muslim or some other kind of immigrant, not only do you get a pass, you can throw people like Brendan off roofs, because diversity.

      Again, I have nothing against people like Brendan. I hate SJW commissars with a fucking passion though.

      Liked by 4 people

      1. Families often put their cherished pets in the front of family photos. Their cherished little projects.

        Their kids will be fine with at least 50% less attention from their parents than they could have had. Look how white they are.


    1. Look at the grin on that niglet. He’ll be raping those white ‘sisters’ between dicking ‘mom’ and beating up his brother while daddy diddles the nigletess


  2. Look closely at both images. Notice anything?

    Look at where the black children are placed in relation to their own biological children.


      1. When I see photos like these, I see parents who detest their own blood children and by extension their own ancestors so much, they are willing not only to replace them with the Establishment’s pets…but rub this genocidal philosophy in their kids’ faces every moment of their lives.

        Imagine the daily levels of fractal mendacity foisted on those white children, in the place we used to call “home,” as they intuit or conclude the differences between themselves and the cuckoos. Will that Noticing be welcome? Not likely.

        Thus in their own “home,” they will be operating at a level of deceit that used to be reserved for, say, the children of alcoholics or abusers.

        What did the “12 step” people used to say? In an alcoholic family there are just three rules: don’t feel, don’t notice, don’t speak.

        In the 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, people would breed half breed kids, denying their offspring their own certainty of ancestry and belonging and abandoning them forever in a state of genetic and cultural confusion. Denying them the very legacy the parents took for granted.

        Now these people bring conflict to their own blood-kin in this new way. Mommy and daddy can be white, and have white mates, and white children…and gush vaginally (dad too) over their altruism and avoid any questioning about that genetic choice.

        And one day, the little sambos will wake up and realize how they were used.

        And the reaction will not be pretty.

        One last thing. In my house we have a lot of family photos. In nearly all of them where we are gathered formally or informally for a portrait, there is always some little edge.

        Somebody doesn’t like the shirt Mom said to wear. Somebody is itchy or didn’t get enough sleep. Somebody wants to finish and go for lunch. Somebody was howling just an hour before, “Oh, come on, dad–not again! We just did this at the beach!” Somebody’s adolescent or menstrual hormones are kicking in, and the grumpy can be seen in the slight squint of one eye…or even the occasional glare of shallow forbearance. Dad would rather be packing to chase elk. Etc.

        By contrast the unified histrionic gushing of these photos makes my balls shrivel.

        All families share a wide range of emotions, but only plastic families smile like that. That’s what offends me most: the full-saturation Lying of these images. The mask-like quality of the faces. It replaces the honesty of family with spectacle–a most profound act of hatred toward one’s offspring.


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