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Rowling always argues that "trans women are trying to invalidate real women by redefining them". "trans agenda" this and "trans agenda" that.

Like, lady, last Saturday I was harassed by a group of 3 men just for being on the sidewalk, and what made me so enticing was just how I dressed.

I don't have time to focus on tearing down your definitions of a woman or whatever. I'm too busy focusing on myself and dealing with the problems that come with it.

My "trans agenda" is just being happy with myself, I literally couldn't care less about redefining one side of the gender binary. It seems the only person so focused on anything to do with that definition is you, actually.

I came across an article that argued that Daniel Radcliffe shouldn't have completely disassociated from JK Rowling just because she has "different views" than him regarding trans women, which I feel is completely missing the point. Rowling has for years and continues to attack a marginalized group of people.

Rowling blatantly demonizes trans women and tries to paint them as dangerous and violent when trans women are prone to being subjected to violent hate crimes themselves. She cherry picks examples of trans women who have committed crimes in order to further her agenda to cast trans women overall in a negative light and instill a fear of them in people. It's a human rights issue. It's an empathy issue, and Rowling only has empathy for cisgender women. What you permit, you promote. I can't blame Radcliffe for not wanting to associate with Rowling and her views when they are a danger to trans people.

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Just a little dark humor - probably gonna get me cancelled but had to share

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Sorry @kira-serialfaggot , but unfortunately we were only essential for a short, risky trial period when the upper class lifestyle was threatened.

Now that the pandemic is "over", you're a good ol' fashioned ✨unskilled laborer✨ once more! Doing the same job, with essentially the same risk of infection, but with none of the incredibly menial benefits!

Because who needs "compensation" or "insurance" when you could have a company branded mask and tiny hand sanitizer!

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REVERSE IT. UNMAKE MY BALLS.

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transparent version,, my lazy ass is NOT making it any cleaner nobodys gonna notice when u add a background anyway

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What's up with babies/toddlers getting all the funny and cute clothes? I'd dress like this every day if this stuff came in adult sizes.

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Me when I use the blender that makes 50% of all turtles feel immeasurable pain

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how is trump alive?? like hes rlly gone thru his whole life like That …. and no one has ever just fuckin decked him?? gave him the ole one two? knocked his lights out??? incredible

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*before my transition*

Bigots: "You're into all that fairy queer shit, you're not a REAL man. You look like a girl!"

*after my transition*

Bigots: "You are definitely, 100%, without a doubt a man and you look nothing like a girl."

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THE LAST DAY GUYS

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(This is how cows are transported to the vet in remote areas of Switzerland)

The great and terrible machine arrived again today. Again it was sporting a black exterior, though this was not the case every time. We watched, waited, and wondered patiently for our caretaker to reveal which of us would be chosen to ascend.

This process was not pleasant, or common for that matter, but it was one that we revered for its occasional mercies. Not all who were chosen would return, after all, but those who did would tell stories of their journey through the skies.

I remember hearing of them when I was just a calf, not much taller than the grass beneath me. Before the grass was my lifeline, it was my home, and it is said that before I lived among the grass, I was the grass myself, feeding the herd that has now brought me to life.

This is why it scares me, the great and terrible machine. With its loud, patternistic sounds echoing through the lush countryside. It preys on our weakest, when one of us among the herd is most vulnerable to its promises of a healthy return. We hear it before we see it, knowing that the soft thunder announcing its arrival will soon alter the landscape into a loud and booming symphony of chaos and noise.

The wind gives way at its feet as it touches the ground, and this time I fear my fever will be my undoing. This time, I fear I will be chosen to go on a great and terrible adventure with the machine in the sky. This fear that has taken hold of me is given purpose by the approach of my caretaker, carrying the mess of black ropes and ornaments towards my weakened frame laid amongst the grass, confirming I will be dressed for the event.

It is as it has always been. The ropes are tight, but comfortable. The ornaments jingle and sway with my movements, and would almost be mistakable for birds, had we not known they've flown away with the arrival of the machine. I see the end of my tether placed within the talons of the machine, and amongst the incomprehensible rambling and gestures between the caretakers, I can tell that it is time for me to go. It is time for my journey in the sky.

I bellow my goodbyes to the herd through my feverish state, not knowing if I will see them again after this. As the machine whirrs to life and begins its ascension, I soon after follow, watching my grass, my lifeline, become an unrecognizable wash of green over the hillsides broken only by rocks and homesteads where on occasion, other cattle could be seen watching my journey from afar.

I wonder if they know the machine. I wonder if it comes for them as it has come for me now. As I sickly meander through the skies, carried by ropes and thunder, I peer off into the vast expanse before me and mentally mark the details as I pass over them. I see the great red tower, I see the watery expanses, I see the forests that lie beyond the mountains.

The machine has shown me my place in the world, and I believe now I understand why I was taken. As I feel the end of my life inching closer, in this moment it is no longer my focus. My whole life, I've only wondered, only feared, but now, through the power of this great and terrible machine, now, I have seen.

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Shamelessly reposting this because I want to emphasize, again, that this is the same crowd that called you an "essential worker" through their masks pulled down under their noses in 2020.

Funny how quickly fast-food service workers then became unskilled laborers not worth 40k, knowing that the average cost of rent alone is more than 42. FUCKING. PERCENT. of that income.

I really hope we remember this next time they call us "heros" for keeping their lifestyle afloat.

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"Khaki" is one of those words that's easy to make verbal jokes with but difficult to make written jokes with.

Looks like the name of an island or something, idk.