His Tiny, Delicate Hands
And speaking of not-at-all unbalanced cross-dressing men:
That would be this chap here, Mr Sasha Yates, whose behaviour didn’t appear to concern the progressive ladies who rushed to his defence to ensure he kept his job after initial complaints. And thereby kept his access to the schoolgirls’ changing rooms, where a bewigged Mr Yates paraded around in his own bra and panties, much to the girls’ discomfort, and while asking those teenage girls about their underwear and menstrual cycles.
The same progressive ladies who denounced as “hate” and “transphobia” any expression of concern, and who elevated themselves with the airing of modish views, their ostentatious displays of inclusivity, while screwing over the schoolgirls being harassed by a cross-dressing creep. Because in the Progressive Pecking Order, expressing discomfort with sexual boundary violations is terribly low-status when the culprit is a man pretending to be a woman.
Or as one progressive lady put it, following complaints of disturbing behaviour,
I’ll give you a moment to process that one. To savour the implications.
To those of us less practised in progressive dissembling, the above would seem to translate as, “It’s okay for the teenage girls in our care to be creeped on repeatedly by a cross-dressing pervert, and consequently left feeling violated and upset, because we have guidance counsellors. And a box of tissues. Also, cross-dressing perverts are very fashionable right now.”
That these sentiments were expressed with great confidence – by a woman – and were left entirely unchallenged by the reporter – also a woman – is quite a thing. It does, I think, tell us something about progressive priorities and which groups are deemed of much less importance.
Still, at least we can savour the irony of claims by Mr Yates’ defenders that we should look at “her [sic] character, not her [sic] gender…”
Readers may recall that Mr Yates’ homemade pornography – which he saw fit to send to a concerned parent, as one does – featured our burly cross-dresser using a kitchen sink as erotic apparatus, and while smoking methamphetamine and asking, coquettishly, “Am I a good meth whore?” A question that every parent hopes to hear from someone entrusted with the care of their children.
Following his self-inflicted exposure and subsequent resignation, supposedly for “ongoing health reasons,” Mr Yates took to a fetish forum to boast of his “coming out” as a “meth whore” – thereby titillating others with an “exposure fetish” – and while simultaneously positioning himself as the victim of a cruel, unfeeling world:
Nature is healing, buddy.
Mr Yates is currently seeking employment as a “transsexual escort.” “I am,” says he, “definitely interested in being pimped out to as many men as possible.”
Again, words that every parent longs to hear.
Whether the schoolgirls whose underwear so intrigued Mr Yates, or their parents, are likely to receive an apology from the school district, or from any of the progressive ladies who dismissed their concerns and accused them of bigotry, remains unclear.
Above, Mr Yates being affirmed by progressive ladies.
No, quite. I get the distinct impression that the consoling, the commiseration on being denied, is only expected to go one way. As progressive fashion dictates.
As I said in the thread following this:
One more time – they’ll sell you out in a heartbeat. It’s pretty much the essence of the psychology in play. Again, see the mental convolutions of Mr Harris Voter in the linked video. The progressive man who tells women What They Should Be Happy To Put Up With, and happy to surrender, quietly and without protest, because they’re old hat. Not shiny any more.
Speaking of which, over in Germany, control “immigration” and “immigrants”? Don’t be a racist, this not at all inconvenient, uncomfortable, or potentially harmful to the user is just the solution.
It’s sometimes quite difficult to convey the degree of evasion and contrivance, and consequent moral perversity.
Again, from the thread linked above,
And once you spot this pattern, this orientation, it does crop up an awful lot.
Another example being the please-don’t-rape-me dance, performed here by ladies of a progressive leaning.
In high school back in the old old days, we had a very popular US history teacher. It was an election year and the class begged her to know her politics and who she voted for. She resolutely refused, knowing that the entire class would imitate her. Ah, integrity, we miss you.
As always with immigration, if you choose not to have one big fence on the outside of your country, you end up with lots of smaller fences in what used to be pleasant high-trust spaces.
Bookmark. It’s hot and muggy, and it is causing my usual cherubic nature to become compromised, so I took pictures of my cat, the hateful Trudy, and trained her on an AI model so I could generate a wintertime picture of her about to kill a bird.
Not hateful to me, but vets and vet techs. She went in yesterday for her annual rabies vaccine and whatnot, and was so hateful they had to sedate her lest they suffer bites and scratches, She’s somewhere outside now, probably working out her frustrations on some poor small furry creature.
[ Passes deodorant. ]
[ Passes invoice for rental of deodorant. ]
More on the joys of multiculturalism.
You haven’t done art bollocks for awhile.
https://x.com/JebraFaushay/status/1942708683915550727?t=kJOf871km18TObhgm7ZWQA&s=19