Dylan James Mulvaney / Days of Girlhood / Day __ of Being a Girl - Dylan Explains It All, a gay man interprets 'girlhood' in all glorious technicolor.

If I had a time machine, I would deliver this creature to Churchill and ask him to think twice about his nemesis. I have an instinctual urge to feed Dylan dainty feet first into a woodchipper, it's the only way my psyche will know peace from his existence. The unhinged smile with beady eyes, the twink interpretation of femininity stretched like shrink wrap on his skeletal frame, the effeminate faggot drag queen style of campy body language and expression that is a mockery of everything a woman is when he's trying to pretend he's one. He inspires the kind of violence I exact on roaches. I cannot fully describe the spectrum of disgust that fuels my urge to exterminate.

Unrelated but the dichotomy of Ellen Page and Dylan trying to be forever youthful by dressing and acting like adolescents in front of cameras while developing crevasses of wrinkles and ruining their bodies... They're both hitting the gay wall in different ways, getting angry at having to dress according to gendered standards to be taken seriously in their career, and their response of being a caricature to overcompensate for their normal gay existence they can't handle anymore is just so strange to behold. They're both doing exactly the same thing, except Ellen genuinely looks like she wants to kill herself while Dylan is sufficiently high on the crack of materialism. In their quest to stop aging, they will look like Keith Richards, Donatella Versace, or Madonna with no in between. Pride comes before the fall!
 
You know when certain people see an object and their minds somehow conceptualize some thought related? Like, you see an apple and your mind says "RED", stuff like that.

Everytime I watch that video, it's like I can see letters inside my brain spelling F A G G O T.
 
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Not mine but he legitimately does resemble The Scream here.
 
If I had a time machine, I would deliver this creature to Churchill and ask him to think twice about his nemesis. I have an instinctual urge to feed Dylan dainty feet first into a woodchipper, it's the only way my psyche will know peace from his existence. The unhinged smile with beady eyes, the twink interpretation of femininity stretched like shrink wrap on his skeletal frame, the effeminate faggot drag queen style of campy body language and expression that is a mockery of everything a woman is when he's trying to pretend he's one. He inspires the kind of violence I exact on roaches. I cannot fully describe the spectrum of disgust that fuels my urge to exterminate.

Unrelated but the dichotomy of Ellen Page and Dylan trying to be forever youthful by dressing and acting like adolescents in front of cameras while developing crevasses of wrinkles and ruining their bodies... They're both hitting the gay wall in different ways, getting angry at having to dress according to gendered standards to be taken seriously in their career, and their response of being a caricature to overcompensate for their normal gay existence they can't handle anymore is just so strange to behold. They're both doing exactly the same thing, except Ellen genuinely looks like she wants to kill herself while Dylan is sufficiently high on the crack of materialism. In their quest to stop aging, they will look like Keith Richards, Donatella Versace, or Madonna with no in between. Pride comes before the fall!
The Nazis were big fans of crossdressing coomers, they kept honouring the transvestite licenses from the Weimar republic and there were rakes of part-time AGP troons in the SS. Though they would've gassed Dylan for being gay.
Stalin or Mao would've been a better bet IMO, because they wouldn't have tolerated this degeneracy; because Dylan and his ilk wouldn't have so much corporate sponsorship under a communist economy; and because he'd never see it coming, because idiot western troons think "communism = free stuff" and would all happily mince off to the gulag.
 
Dylan went to a screening of Lisa Frankenstein, but naturally the photos look like he's just been labelled "Frankenstein"
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The Cruella DeVille coat is about $900 from Ronny Kobo.
Dylan also celebrated 500 milly for Dilly, sang some Joni Mitchell with Jessica Vosk and then clapped back at the haters while rolling around in Christmas pyjamas
I can't upload the TikToks on KF at the moment, but the last one is particularly unhinged (he seems to be doing some sort of accent?)
 
Dylan went to a screening of Lisa Frankenstein, but naturally the photos look like he's just been labelled "Frankenstein"
View attachment 5698446View attachment 5698447
The Cruella DeVille coat is about $900 from Ronny Kobo.
Dylan also celebrated 500 milly for Dilly, sang some Joni Mitchell with Jessica Vosk and then clapped back at the haters while rolling around in Christmas pyjamas
I can't upload the TikToks on KF at the moment, but the last one is particularly unhinged (he seems to be doing some sort of accent?)
Manly thick neck even while anorexic.
 
Dylan went to a screening of Lisa Frankenstein, but naturally the photos look like he's just been labelled "Frankenstein"
View attachment 5698446View attachment 5698447
The Cruella DeVille coat is about $900 from Ronny Kobo.
Dylan also celebrated 500 milly for Dilly, sang some Joni Mitchell with Jessica Vosk and then clapped back at the haters while rolling around in Christmas pyjamas
I can't upload the TikToks on KF at the moment, but the last one is particularly unhinged (he seems to be doing some sort of accent?)
It’s a disturbing mix of “am baby”, rolling around like he’s on some horny club drug, and the programming that the lizard inside his skin suit is using being in the midst of a malfunction/force close.
 
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