Keffals / Clara Sorrenti / Lucas John Roberts / Queen Clara the Fart Dominatrix / SorrentiThott - Twitter / Twitch slacktivist. Obsessed with being famous. Operator of the Catboy Ranch. Canadian T-Girl porn star and independent Fart Fetish / Findom Dominatrix. Personally sponsored sending Chinese HRT from Brazil to children without parental consent.

Finally I can also be trans! My Pornouns are Sne/Sneed
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A clever person would've just said "my gender is sneed because i feed and seed (deadname: Chuck)", even when using dumb memes he can't come up as funny.

It's like he thought of the punchline before the joke and though "OH THIS IS REALLY CLEVER I HAVE TO FORCE IT SOMEHOW"
 
Heh... the cuckservative's too dumb to get mad at the funny picture.
These people are honestly such subhuman NPCs they can't even conceive of someone finding something directed at them funny instead of immediately chimping out and getting triggered and hyperventilating into a panic attack.
But the thing is, Keffals does groom children to be catboys, and unironically sent his fans after the farms.


He's exacly as fucking dumb as the comic says, and it backfired on the artist when what the comic states is mostly true.
Or the artist is more clever than he's letting on and just knows keffals' low-IQ brain-damaged catboys are dumb enough to believe that cartoon actually does support him instead of just making fun of everyone involved (with keffals himself getting the worst of it because if that actually is intended to support him well lmao).
The gimmick of the cartoon, from what I understand, is that it's supposed to parody boomer newspaper political cartoons.
It's specifically a style pastiche of the Kelly cartoons from the Onion.
 
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His castration was an improvement, as well. A tiny little win for the human gene pool.

It's really the only small bit of comfort we can take from this trend: at least these fuckers aren't breeding. People just have to protect their kids better from the brainwashing, and the trans trend should (theoretically anyway) die completely in around 30~ years. I mean, that's certainly not the kind of timeline that anyone would call "optimistic," but it's better than nothing.
 
Checkmark, definitely. Stopping HRT would make zero difference for him.
Would he take the cancerous bathtub hrt do you think? Or does he know what's in it and would never use it himself? If he knows about the benzene then he's even more evil than previously thought. Poisoning children to own the conservatards! Winning!
 
From what I know of the artist, he isn't trying to make fun of Keffals, he's doing the "irony" thing by "pretending" to support kiwifarms in the comic that is meant to be absurd to make the kiwifarms look bad.


But the thing is, Keffals does groom children to be catboys, and unironically sent his fans after the farms.


He's exacly as fucking dumb as the comic says, and it backfired on the artist when what the comic states is mostly true.
Thats the thing isn't it? An accurate retelling of Lucas's day to day life would read like satire because he's that fucking ridiculous a person. Only his immense narcissism shields him from 41%ing himself, if he ever stopped and took an honest, objective appraisal of his life and who he is as a person, I don't think he'd survive it.
 
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During the time this thread was locked I finally realized what his voice sounds like, he got VFS i think but all it made him sound like is like a 13 year-old boy whose voice is in between a child's voice and a grown man's voice, he still doesn't sound like a woman. He's just gonna sound like a pubescent tween boy for the rest of his life, now.
To me he does sound like a chick...but a chick thats trying to talk deep like a dude. Its super weird.
 
It’s like Lucas thinks that everyone else is terminally online like him. Not everyone can look at that comic and instantly think “ah yes the giant kiwi is the punch line. Not the big fat and ugly ((((woman))))”

Also the artist calling Keffals a honkey in an endearing fashion is fucking hilarious.

Edit: I remember seeing this guys comics floating around where the punchline of the comic was “If my girlfriend isn’t a real woman, how come she acts like a real bitch?”

What’s with these people and thinking “women bad” is a good punchline by itself?
 
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To me he does sound like a chick...but a chick thats trying to talk deep like a dude. Its super weird.
He sounds like the stereotypical gay man. Honestly his life would have probably been far better off if that furry troon hadn’t groomed him as he would have just been the typical fag bear type and not the abomination worthy of ridicule he is today.
 
Forgive me, for I have sinned.


It was I, Marvin the Paranoid Android, who caused the suicides of Chloe Sagal, Julie Terryberry, Elizabeth Waite and David Kirk Ginder.

I made Chloe Sagal douse herself in gasoline and light herself on fire as a test, and compelled her to make a false statement that her suicide was about homelessness and mental health as a cover. It failed.

I made Julie Terryberry hang herself because I was sick and tired of everyone spamming the same photo of her blistered ass in every thread I went into, and neglected to compel her to write a false suicide note out of negligence. My bad.

Elizabeth Waite was a gross troon I compelled to overdose on medication, and once again I hadn't accounted for a suicide note, and neglected the possibility they'd write a suicide note autonomously and blame the Kiwi Farms by pure coincidence.

David Kirk Ginder was a gross pedo furfag and I was jealous of his wizard-tier programming skills. In my arrogant belief that lightning can't possibly strike twice, I once again did not account for staging blame and David moved to set up Dear Leader as the accountable party.

Chance Carmichael was just fat and died incidentally.

How did I cause all these suicides, you ask?

I have a DeAtH nOtE.


Now I realize my folly, I should have been wearing these compelled suicides on our collective sleeve all along, and so will my next victims. I should've done this a long time ago. It's time to take out the trash.

The following is transcribed from my dEaTh NoTe.

Lucas Roberts, also known as "Clara Sorrenti," will have the most dramatic, public and egotistically romanticized suicide I can think of. Lucas will forget to dilate his neovagina, allowing it to heal and the inner walls to fuse together, leaving a shallow crevice before he remembers to dilate, at which point the neovagina will become infected, neglected and eventually necrotic. Lucas will go to the hospital to get multiple surgeries and antibiotics, but Lucas will become neglectful again and forget to take his antibiotics for a week before remembering to resume, at which point the bacteria will become antibiotic resistant and the necrosis will set in again. In a fit of physical agony, Lucas will write "#KiwiFarmsSuicidedMe" with a blue ballpoint pen on his left forearm, then immediately forget about it, after which he will locate the tallest building with civilian access to every floor he can find in the city where he's dwelling and fling himself off the roof of that building as one last grand gesture to the world, only for his corpse to go unnoticed for a week before someone smells his decaying flesh.

Huai Ze Dong, also known as "Chloe Elselvier Solanders," will get a tattoo on his left arm that reads "#KiwiFarmsSuicidedMe" on his left forearm and forget about it. Every time Huai Ze Dong looks upon the tattoo, he fails to read it or recognize it's even there. After acquiring the tattoo he'll try heroin, become addicted to heroin for several weeks and steal money from his parents to support his addiction. After a month of this behavior, Huai Ze Dong will buy a batch of cheap heroin cut with a deadly dose of carfentanyl and die of heroin toxicity while hiding beside a dumpster in a dingy alley.

Ethan Ralph will tattoo "#KiwiFarmsSuicidedMe" on his left forearm in a drunken spur of the moment while in Las Vegas and go on such a drug bender that it induces kidney failure, causing him to go on dialysis for a few months. Then, due to a drunken bender, Ethan Ralph will neglect to go get kidney dialysis and die of kidney failure shortly thereafter.

Elliot William Fong, also known as "Zhen "Elizabeth" Fong-Jones," will cross the Canadian border to visit a gas station in the United States, write "#KiwiFarmsSuicidedMe" on his left forearm and forget about it. He will then start shoplifting at the gas station only to be caught by a police officer, at which point Elliot will reach for the officer's gun, successfully wrangle it from the officer and point it at his own head to hold himself hostage. Eventually a negotiator is called on the scene, the negotiator calls him "Elliot William Fong" every time the negotiator addresses him, causing immense distress in Elliot to which Elliot discharges the pistol into his own head.

Philip Stephen Wythe, also known as "Anastasia Catherine Wythe," will write "#KiwiFarmsSuicidedMe" on his left forearm and forget about it, he will then go to a New York subway and jump in front of a speeding subway train in such a manner that his left arm is left intact to be read clearly by authorities and journalists.

Nickalaus B. Stoutzenberger will write "#KiwiFarmsSuicidedMe" with his own fecal matter on his left forearm and forget about it, he will then be released to gen pop where one of the other inmates will recognize him, which will result in Nick getting stabbed to death in the cafeteria.

Guillaume Labelle, also known as "Sophie Labelle Verville," will write "#KiwiFarmsSuicidedMe" on his left forearm and forget about it, followed by slashing his right arm with a serrated steak knife, allowing himself to bleed out where he stands.

Samuel Collingwood Smith will write "#KiwiFarmsSuicidedMe" on his left forearm and then go to a public bathroom stall where he'll take a shit and die of a heart attack, slumped against the wall so as to prop him up and allow his bowels to vacate into the toilet, where his body will remain for a week without being noticed.

Cenk Kadir Uygur will read this thread post and decide to do a live segment covering it on The Young Turks, where he will read out loud the entire post to a live audience, then he'll write "#KiwiFarmsSuicidedMe" on his left forearm in front of the camera and give a rising, passionate, ranting, raving, Hitleresque speech about the evils of Kiwi Farmers wherein he finally acknowledges the Armenian holocaust by comparing it to Kiwi Farms, and just when he reaches the apex of his speech, he will be suddenly struck with a brain aneurysm and die on air.

 
Would he take the cancerous bathtub hrt do you think? Or does he know what's in it and would never use it himself? If he knows about the benzene then he's even more evil than previously thought. Poisoning children to own the conservatards! Winning!
If the troonshiners were forced to take responsibility the way they would spin it is probably as a risk that was necessary because the evil medical establishment isn't doing it's job - like they're in a warzone trying to save lives with inadequate equipment.
"We're luckily privileged enough to receive legal HRT - we tried to supply the poor souls who aren't with the best we could create, given our lack of resources, and tragically ended up not taking safety measures seriously enough in our quest to save lives as quickly as possible. If only professionally produced HRT could be accessed by minors without parental consent, there wouldn't be a need for such ramshackle operations."

It's the same line of reasoning used to justify legalizing drugs and prostitution, but of course it doesn't have a leg to stand on unless you accept the predicate that not giving minors HRT is literal murder.
 
Does anyone know stuff about paying taxes in Canada and paying taxes in Ireland?

I know about one German streamer who fucked off to Ireland completely bc he has to pay way less taxes there than in Germany.

Could Lucas profit from less taxes in Ireland than in Canada?
It's the Republic of Ireland that has those tax thingies. Belfast is in the UK, so he has the double taxation agreement that if he has paid tax on some income in Canada, he doesn't have to pay it again. However, this raises a question. Since it was on such short notice, Lucas couldn't have got a work visa for the UK and must be entering without a visa (none of the following applies if, like a surprising number of Canadians, he has Bongland or Potatoland citizenship through a (grand)parent). To do this, he must abide by the rules for a Visitor visa, which means he cannot do paid or unpaid work as a self-employed person. Presumably, if they even asked, he told the Bongland immigration officers he was using the $100,000 CAD to support himself. If he e-begs on stream while in the UK he could therefore get in trouble for it (though obviously he won't, troons have diplomatic immunity).
 
Wow holy shit, I also JUST found this was about to post it, I was surprised that so few people have found the Kaylie identity. Here's a YouTube channel as well. The subscriber list and playlists are pure gold.
this image is so fucking uncanny. that face doesnt look like it belongs on that neck and those shoulders jesus christ. honestly feels like some weird AI deepfake, but unfortunately that's just the bastard's face. No wonder he's so miserable all the time.
 
If the troonshiners were forced to take responsibility the way they would spin it is probably as a risk that was necessary because the evil medical establishment isn't doing it's job - like they're in a warzone trying to save lives with inadequate equipment.
"We're luckily privileged enough to receive legal HRT - we tried to supply the poor souls who aren't with the best we could create, given our lack of resources, and tragically ended up not taking safety measures seriously enough in our quest to save lives as quickly as possible. If only professionally produced HRT could be accessed by minors without parental consent, there wouldn't be a need for such ramshackle operations."

It's the same line of reasoning used to justify legalizing drugs and prostitution, but of course it doesn't have a leg to stand on unless you accept the predicate that not giving minors HRT is literal murder.
No doubt. I think that would work in the court of public opinion, but I don't think it would hold up in a civil lawsuit. Odds of them ever being sued over this are very, very slim - practically nonexistent actually.

Those poor kids. I hate adult trannies with a firey passion, but I just feel sad for the kids.
 
“Do you have any social media presence?”

Agent Harrison nervously bit the inside of her lip.

“No sir,” she replied.

“Are any of your family or close friends active on social media? If so, are these accounts public, and would they be recognisable as being the property of these individuals?”

“I'm an orphan, sir. The FBI has been my de-facto family ever since I was accepted into the Waifs and Strays Initiative at the age of 14. Also, I'm a workaholic. No social life to speak of, sir.”

Agent Skingley nodded matter-of-factly as he wrote something down on his clipboard.

“Waifs and Strays was a great program,” he muttered under his breath.

“I am required to a provide a trigger warning prior to the next question,” he said. “Have you ever created a social media profile for a dead loved one? It could be an account that you posted on a few times and then neglected.”

When Harrison didn't immediately answer, he went on:

“I need to remind you that the person behind that door is a remorseless narcissist who was once judged too crazy for the Canadian communist party. She will use the ratio of replies vs likes on any given social media post as a weapon. Be assured, if you created a social media account for a stillborn infant, she would waste absolutely no time in ratioing that child's unbaptised soul out of purgatory and into the flaming pits of hell.”

“There's a memorial Twitter account for a school friend who died in a dirt bike accident when I was 12,” admitted Harrison. “I was admin for the account along with two of my classmates.”

“Delete it now. Afterwards write down the names of the other admins along with their last known places of residence.”

Agent Harrison took out her phone.

“What's the password for the FBI Wi-Fi?” she enquired.

“It's FBI1.”

Her fingertips darted across the buttons of the small touchscreen keypad.

“Okay, it's done,” she said.

~​

The interview lasted less than fifteen minutes. Agent Skingley had barely coaxed a coffee out of the machine, outside the entrance to the cafeteria, when he was called back down.

Agent Harrison was supporting herself against the wall. Her face and neck were glazed with a sheen of cold sweat. She looked haggard as if she had suddenly aged twenty years. A few feet further along the corridor, her partner, Agent Moore was relaying the details of the interview to Deputy Director Willet.

Harrison's hollow-eyed stare connected momentarily with Skingley before going blank.

“Mittens,” she croaked.

“She set up an Instagram account for her cat,” said Moore. “Musta forgot all about it. I just got off the phone with her neighbour. The sick motherfucka, we got handcuffed behind that door, somehow managed to ratio clean through all nine of Mitten's lives.”

“I think that you know who to contact,” said Willet.

Skingley nodded.

“I'll get right on it,” he said.

~​

Keffals sat in the interrogation room, smirking into the black mirror of the one-way glass. Sometimes when she did this, a man from her past, named Lucas, would stare back at her, mocking her with his presence, but not today. Today her reflection was all Keffals.

The door opened. A man who resembled Alec Baldwin walked in. He was followed inside by another man who stood sentry by the door.

“Are you here to accidentally kill me with a prop firearm?” enquired Keffals.

“I get that a lot,” replied the man as he pulled up a seat.

“They call me the Aggregator. What I do is I take all of the ratios and fractions, then I add them up to make whole numbers. Would you care to guess what I do with the remainder?”

Keffals reflection smirked back at her. Unphased by her silence, the Aggregator turned to his colleague.

“Agent Mayfield. Would you kindly hand me any small change that you have on your person.”

Reluctantly Agent Mayfield emptied his pockets. Reaching over he handed a small quantity of coins to his superior.

The Aggregator rose ponderously to his feet. His fingers fumbled with his belt, loosening it by a couple of notches. The hand that was holding the coins plunged down the back of his pants, and into the canyon between his buttocks. When he removed it, the coins were gone.

His ass cheeks began to shift asymmetrically against each other, like a pair of millstones moving out of kilter. The muffled sound of metal grinding against metal filled the silence. Finally, he paused in mid-gyration standing stock still as if he had frozen in a game of musical statues. A moment later, a shiny disk dropped from his pant leg, striking the hard floor atonally and wobbling for a few seconds, before finally lying flat.

“Agent Mayfield: Would you retrieve the object that had just dropped from my right pant leg and place it on the table in front of me.”

Snapping on a pair of evidence gloves, Agent Mayfield crouched down and gingerly recovered the butt token. As instructed he laid it down on the table in front of the prisoner.

It was a shiny silver dollar bearing the profile of Donald Trump, encircled by the motto: The Rightful President of the United States of America.

The Aggregator allowed the coin to rest on the table long enough for Keffals to absorb the exquisite detail in the rendering of the 45th Head of State – the flabby jawline and the expectant piggy eyes of the man who had once played the role of Waldo Johnston II in a movie adaptation of The Little Rascals.

“Okay, Agent Mayfield. You may take the coin away,” he said. “If you choose to spend it, then make sure that you do so on something that costs exactly a dollar, while also factoring tax into your purchase. This Bureau will not tolerate any leftovers in its spending plan.”

On the opposite side of the table, Keffals sneered at the agent.

“Was your circus performance supposed to intimidate m,” she said. “I'm the girl who single-handedly destroyed Kiwi Farms. I have done more for Internet safety than the Jesus and the FBI ever did.”

The Aggregator sat back down, shifting his coin-minting buttocks until he was comfortable.

“Lucas,” he said. “I'm going to call you Lucas because you are about to realise that you are dead and buried. And, when they do bury you, 'Lucas' is the name they are going to chisel on your headstone. Now, for starters, why don't you enlighten me on what you think a bug tester might do. Now, to be clear, I'm not talking about a bug chaser. I'm talking about a bug tester.”

The smirk slowly evaporated from Keffals' face. In the blackness of the glass, the unwanted likeness of Lucas was beginning to swamp her reflection.

“A bug tester is someone who tests for frailties in software, so that they can be eliminated,” said the Aggregator. “Now, imagine there's this guy who owns a website. Let's call him Joshua. And let's call the website Kiwi Farms. Now Joshua wants to test his website for vulnerabilities, but it needs to be a genuine attack rather something staged. So he thinks to himself: 'Who do I know who has a demented online presence and bags of disposable income to throw around...?

The reflection in the glass was now entirely Lucas. Keffals turned his head away in disgust.

“The silver dollar finally dropped has it?” said the Aggregator.
 
@3322 In your initial post you mention "^ this tweet was deleted and nobody archived it"
fyi - it was archived 2 times:

Also note that 2nd tweet:
"When I was 16, a 42 year old trans woman hooked me up..."
1664565199200.png

"I am eternally grateful... always going to pass on the love and support she gave me any opportunity I can"
is just a euphemism for "I'm a groomer, i'm gonna transgender your children try to stop me bitch"
 
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