Gonna be real with you king, if you're the Incel, low T, balding, ugly bastard type even you can go make friends with others like yourself at the nearest games workshop.
I wouldn't trade the fact that as a dude I can turn on my American government issue mass shooter detector goggles and make friends with the weirdos simply by acknowledging their existence to be surrounded by false friends, people who are probably looking to score, and women. And those weirdos will literally stick by you through thick and fucking thin. Some of these dudes all I did was eat lunch with after class in college. And cause gay people are a different kind of weird, I don't even have to worry about being slobbered on or raped. I don't have to deal with simps. It sounds hard to believe, but being surrounded by people who are essentially barely downstream from simply wanting to put their dick in you is not a good place.
I didn't realize it till working in a summer camp with coed dorms. Women are cunts to each other. All the time. It's a low pressure, constant nipping that if you ever get a woman to crack open about it while the wound is fresh you will be in fucking awe at how awful they can be. Lesbians beat the shit out of each other because women fucking hate women. Women have higher mental illness rates because they are constantly coping with dealing with women. The idealized world that trannies exist in where all the women act like the cast of KON doesn't exist.
there's a few "femanons", (the fuck do we call them here?) in the transgender surgery thread who call them "Handmaidens", or ball washers; other women who act like the supporting cast of an anime show for a tranny because they are literally afraid of them.
I fully believe this "KONification" of what life actually is as a woman, promoted by the feminist sisterhood type, is the mixture of wheat, sugar, and hops that the yeasty crotch rot of feminine idealization ferments into a Troon. And sure, I don't like the fact that I can disappear off the face of the planet for a week and at most get a text from my roommate asking if I've died. But then again, I feel awkward when the local cafe asks if I want the usual.