Via Pst314 in the comments, a tale of suboptimal decisions:

Says the cross-dressing man in the floral pinafore.

This American man, pretending to be a woman, fled the US for the Netherlands for “asylum.”

Now he regrets it because of all the Muslim migrants who violently target him.

You can’t make this stuff up.pic.twitter.com/MBizjmHa3A

— Libs of TikTok (@libsoftiktok) July 14, 2026

Our cross-dressing chap, whose name is not disclosed, fled some unspecified oppression in Mr Trump’s America and sought asylum in the Netherlands. As one does.

And so, our cross-dressing man now finds himself in the country’s primary asylum reception centre, sited in the village of Ter Apel, and where his fellow seekers of asylum – chiefly, Muhammadan gentlemen from Morocco and Algeria – are an actual danger, not an imagined one.

“There’s a bunch [of migrants] who think that queer people should be beaten,” says he. “It is too dangerous to walk from here to the grocery store because of the people who live in the camp.”

Sufficiently so, it seems, for the Red Cross and other aid agencies to have withdrawn from the encampment due to the violence, arson, numerous stabbings, and so forth.

A longer video, from Dutch PowNews, can be found here.

Readers will note the displays of the raised middle finger, a universal indicator of warm feelings and good intentions.

Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Because some things bear repeating, a few items from the archives:

Daddy’s Baggage.

Raising boys, the progressive way.

I Have Some Reservations.

“Real witches” offer progressive parenting advice.

Feeding On Failure.

Academics whose paycheque depends on propagating misery.

The Unspanked Spread Joy.

On fabulist “identities,” and malice with impunity.

Weepy And Hysterical.

Lecturer in “critical whiteness studies” apologises, at length, for his heterosexuality.

For those craving more, this is a pretty good place to start.

It occurs to me that if you’re running a “trans-owned LGBTQIA+ bookshop and coffee shop” – “queer books, queer haircuts, queer coffee” – yes, queer coffee – and your patrons have to be reminded, via “guidelines displayed on each table,” of how to behave like even minimally civilised people, then you may want to seek out a better class of patron.

From said guidelines:

That’s before we get to the bits about “violent, abusive, and disruptive behaviour” and, inevitably, “crisis support.” And yet, despite the somewhat concerning reminders about violence and basic hygiene, what caught my eye was the bit about taking your craft projects home with you when you leave.

Yes, today’s word is littering. Why do you ask?

For those of you intrigued – and I can feel the hum of excitement in the room – temptations include Sad Dyke Poetry Night – two hours of mournful lesbians, first Friday of every month – “open to all emotions and all identities” – plus lots of talks about mental health, and Queer Yarn, an evening of “fibre craft” every other Saturday afternoon.

There’s also a Queer Art Takeover, in which suitably queer artists are invited to “rent a shelf” to display their creative outpourings and general queerness. And those best-selling pronoun pins are now back in stock.

Oh, and Palestinian cola drinks. Obviously.

Update, via the comments:

Commenter [+] quotes this,

And adds,

Quite. And presumably every one of those bullet points – complete with its own big pink heart – tells a story about the venue’s clientele. Some incident or other. After all, you’d only need to announce this rather bizarre list of rules if you already have a significant number of customers who are enormously selfish and self-absorbed, prone to littering and violence and psychological crises, and whose personal hygiene falls far short of what one might hope.

The fact that the rules are there – printed up on every table – tells us quite a lot. More than intended, I venture. One might even infer some correlation of selfish and antisocial behaviour with the supposedly radical “identities” being professed. For instance.

Previously in the laugh-a-minute world of ostentatiously “queer” venues.

Plenty boom. || At last, weeble chess. || The autonomous bins of tomorrow. || Snug but not impossible. || Meaty treat. || Choices were made. || Random malice, a possible series. || Sweet dreams. || On the Throne: 100 Years of the Toilet, 1984. || Engine trouble detected. || Someone stole his truck. || On curing cancer. || Suboptimal scenario. || You want one and you know it. || Good to know. || Leggy. || Discourse was attempted. || Jupiter. || The progressive retail experience, parts 741 and 742. || Pretty big, I guess. || It could go either way, so place your bets. || Mid-boom miniatures. || Intrigue. || Unstaffed all-night ramen store. || How to delay a flight. || Footwear was chosen. || Yes, but what if we added fire? || Man starts fire with penis. || Frock and penis. || And finally, use was made of furniture.

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And as this is fundraising week, which keeps this place here, do feel free to make use of the tip jar.

She plays a Greek soldier, you know.

After viewing this video, I very much doubt Page will be shown walking in The Odyssey. pic.twitter.com/UQBH4xdRjm

— Gay Not Queer (@Gaynotqueer1) July 7, 2026

A mighty warrior. And a skilled deceiver.

And as this is fundraising week, which keeps this place here, do feel free to make use of the tip jar.

Open thread, me hearties.