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Artwork Copyright © Tyler Spangler

Shop: shoptylerspangler.com

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Audentes fortuna iuvat ⚔️

I wanted to draw solo-fanart of both Hans and Henry in battle and my patrons decided Hans is first! Henry will come later as a companion piece 😊

If you look closely, you might spot a subtle Hansry-nod in this - it'll be a bit more obvious once I'm done with Henry. 😌

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As an alternative to 'sugar, spice, and everything nice'

I present: 'salt, vinegar, and everything sinister'

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Design graphics Geya Shvecova (Into transparency) Archive_090625

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First Men were claiming Women are no longer desirable at 35,30,25 NOW ITS 22!

So first they say Women are no longer desirable bale at 35, then 30, then 25, then 22. The age keeps getting lower and lower. These nasty creeps. They really love lying to themselves, this CREEP really said Women are no longer “desirable after the age off 22”. I MEAN the mind games these worthless expendable incel creatures will play on women to just lower the self esteem of women to make themselves feel better about their miserable purposeless existence just because they’re societal REJECTS. This incel really said it like it was some sort of “objective” truth to make himself feel better about the fact they have NO VALUE. It’s a way men artificially increase their value because men know they HAVE NONE. By putting women down and enforcing extreme standards on Women they make themselves feel better about their worthless lives. They’re so fucking miserable and hateful. Males are obsessed with women’s value and “mate worth” because THEY KNOW they have NONE. Women are valuable at every age and that’s why they’re BIG MAD.

The funniest PART OF this is that the most searched porn categories are MILF. 😂 it’s the most contradictory part of it all. Genuinely, like why don’t these men fuck each-other or get their robots and fuck off. They really think when they hit their 30s, women will be checking for them😂 like give me a BREAK. These Men will fuck corpses, animals, literally anything that has a hole. And they claim to have such “high standards”, men can’t have standards because in order to have standards you need to have options and the vast majority of men don’t even have options because women don’t fucking want them. And why on Earth would a Woman even want to be with a male that thinks this way, who thinks you’re no longer desirable after a certain age? What’s the point? You’re better off single. What is this male offering you?

These nasty foul disgusting creatures think they’re immune from aging. Most men look ugly at every age. WHO told these males that they were special? WHO told them they age like fine wine? Becuase they don’t. Most men are ugly, grotesque and BROKE and they stay like that their entire lifetime. In any time in human history these subpar incel losers would’ve been annihilated at war, but yet here they are existing and roaming this earth like literal disgusting parasites with no purpose.

NO woman WILL EVER and IS EVER checking for some miserable incel scrote. Why don’t they get this through their thick braindead skulls.

Thanks for letting me rant.

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Our mothers do to us what their mothers did to them and what the mothers of their mothers did to them until one of us stands up and refuses to take it anymore but it isn’t a gesture of self-emancipation or a strengthening of personhood; it is simply an anguished strike against the cycle, the nature of affairs, the ever persistent convention that went on at the expense of the tender hearts of little girls who, like their brothers, deserved to sleep well and dream colorful but would only dream of an escape. Some wounded themselves, other shut down, even more gave up but there is always one child - ferocious of heart and robust of soul - who sees circumstance as chance and chance as a window out of a dark room. And to be that child is agony long before it is freedom.

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average conversation with straight women

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5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

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Young liberal women often talk about "we're the daughters of witches you couldn't burn" or "they would've institutionalized or lobotomized me for sure, I say the craziest things" or "I would've just ran away from the arranged marriage" or "I would have never used those toxic products, the way they knew they were harmful and they still did it is crazy" and unfortunately so often I just have to roll my eyes because I know they're all bark and no bite. When push comes to shove, they have no teeth.

They can hardly handle female-only Wiccan practices. Everything has to include everyone. God forbid women focus on themselves! They worry about appeasing the feminine males who are key witchfinder generals in their revived grift.

No, they're not getting fined, "canceled", or locked up for wrongthink because they are too scared to actually be the voice of dissent!

No, they wouldn't have fled that loveless marriage. I see the relationships they stay in and make excuses for that are sad at best, and lethally dangerous at worst. He doesn't clean up, wash up, or even make them cum, so why don't they leave now? They have exponentially more freedom to do so than even their grandmother a couple generations ago.

No, they would've put the toxic gunk on their skin same as they do now in the name of "beauty" or "fashion" that only feeds off the insecurities that the anti-aging industry has been selling to women forever. They gawk at the bizarre makeup and body modifications that women used to do and then turn around and inject their faces with silicone and literal neurotoxins to avoid facing the truth of time. They laugh at the immobility of a 1800s hoop skirt, and then squeeze themselves into a tiny plastic dress and heels that stunt range of motion and movement speed.

Not only are they not the countercultural renegade they think they are, they actively hate the women who buck the mold. They jump on the bandwagon of threatening women who dare to call a spade a spade, a threat a threat, or a pattern a pattern. They tell lesbians to have sex with males. They hate women who actually do seek and create women only spaces and choose to decenter men from their lives, the ones who actually do run off and pursue their goals of freedom from men and the patriarchy. The kicker is that they could do it too! If only they had the class consciousness and guts to actually put their money where their mouth is. Leave the bum, dare to show your real face to the world, speak up against misogyny and violence.

They all think they would've been the brave rebel, the outcast fighting the patriarchal system, and maybe even that they are now, but in a cruel twist of fate, they have settled into being complicit enforcers of the very things they are convinced they despise.

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Olympia Dukakis & Brenda Fricker in Cloudburst (2011)

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working up the courage to message an old friend you've fallen out of contact with is weird, especially if you were really close. like hi i think about you almost every day and sometimes i dream about you and your name is etched on my soul. we haven't spoken in five years. how are you?

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In which case, you fail by default.

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“Not all females menstruate!” -True, but only females menstruate

“Not all females have breasts and curves!” -True, but this body fat distribution is most common in females

“Not all females have XX chromosomes!” -True, but no female has a SRY gene.

“Not all females dress feminine, are nurturing, or want children!” -True, and they shouldn’t have to do any of those things

“Some females have penises!” -Wrong, that is a male-specific trait

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