- Joined
- Feb 26, 2021
Arron Tidd (“Amy”) has every ailment going: ADHD, autism, mental health issues, obesity, walks with a stick and is “plural”. In short he’s an attention seeking, unemployable narc.
Megathread Tranny Sideshows on Social Media - Any small-time spectacle on Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter, Dating Sites, and other social media.
- Thread starter Real Mayun
- Start date
Oh piss off!
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2021
Karen Davis. Her Youtube channel is You're Kidding Right?
Reminds me of that photo of Colin Montgomerie and his female friend/relative that he's obviously modelled his new face, hair and makeup on. Creepy as fuck.
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Amber the Hedgehog
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2018
Buffalo Bill does potray many modern transgenders because culture, the diagnostic process and just general definition have changed that much. Their behavior isn't as extreme but thinking is remarkably similar.
Bill didn't have any special issues with his gender to start with but he did hate himself and he couldn't cope with life. He found about transitioning and how it could make him better, because of course he hates himself when he supposed to be a woman. Unfortunately doctors didn't agree with him and didn't play his game. Him being so nuts and having gotten obsessed with idea, rather trying to get accurate diagnosis and treatment for his issues, goes with his next idea of a woman suit because it fits him being right and there being hope because he was right.
Bill was basically just desperately looking explanation for his feelings, any explanation that could lead out. If something else had gotten him first he would have gone with that cult, hobby, religion, hard drug or gang, and gotten equally obsessed and willing to do awful things for it. That's why Hannibal says he isn't trans, the desire for transitioning was clearly just a cope for something else. Clarice was better off looking how an obsessive mind works, not gender identity issues as they were understood back then.
- Joined
- Feb 13, 2018
I had to try something.
Only followed Bardfinn. Let's see if I make it into an article.
Only followed Bardfinn. Let's see if I make it into an article.
BlueSpark
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jul 20, 2016
From chapter 28 of te book Silence of the Lambs, where Crawford the FBI agent is trying to get info from a doctor that runs a "gender identity clinic":
Jack Crawford declined Dr. Danielson’s coffee, but took the cup
to mix himself an Alka-Seltzer at the stainless-steel sink behind
the nursing station. Everything was stainless steel, the cup
dispenser, the counter, the waste bin, the rims of Dr.
Danielson’s spectacles. The bright metal suggested the wink of
instruments and gave Crawford a distinct twinge in the area of
his inguinal ring.
He and the doctor were alone in the little galley.
“Not without a court order, you don’t,” Dr. Danielson said
again. He was brusque this time, to counter the hospitality he’d
shown with the coffee.
Danielson was head of the Gender Identity Clinic at Johns
Hopkins and he had agreed to meet Crawford at first light,
long before morning rounds. “You’ll have to show me a
separate court order for each specific case and we’ll fight every
one. What did Columbus and Minnesota tell you—same thing,
am I right?”
“The Justice Department’s asking them right now. We have
to do this fast, Doctor. If the girl’s not dead already, he’ll kill
her soon—tonight or tomorrow. Then he’ll pick the next one,”
Crawford said.
“To even mention Buffalo Bill in the same breath with the
problems we treat here is ignorant and unfair and dangerous,
Mr. Crawford. It makes my hair stand on end. It’s taken
years—we’re not through yet—showing the public that
transsexuals aren’t crazy, they aren’t perverts, they aren’t
queers, whatever that is—”
“I agree with you—”
“Hold on. The incidence of violence among transsexuals is a
lot lower than in the general population. These are decent
people with a real problem—a famously intransigent problem.
They deserve help and we can give it. I’m not having a witch
hunt here. We’ve never violated a patient’s confidence, and we
never will. Better start from there, Mr. Crawford.”
For months now in his private life, Crawford had been
cultivating his wife’s doctors and nurses, trying to weasel every
minute advantage for her. He was pretty sick of doctors. But
this was not his private life. This was Baltimore and it was
business. Be nice now.
“Then I haven’t made myself clear, Doctor. My fault—it’s
early, I’m not a morning person. The whole idea is, the man
we want is not your patient. It would be someone you refused
because you recognized that he was not a transsexual. We’re
not flying blind here—I’ll show you some specific ways he’d
deviate from typical transsexual patterns in your personality
inventories. Here’s a short list of things your staff could look
for among your rejects.”
Dr. Danielson rubbed the side of his nose with his finger as
he read. He handed the paper back. “That’s original, Mr.
Crawford. In fact it’s extremely bizarre, and that’s a word I
don’t use very often. May I ask who provided you with that
piece of … conjecture?”
I don’t think you’d like to know that, Dr. Danielson. “The
Behavioral Science staff,” Crawford said, “in consultation with
Dr. Alan Bloom at the University of Chicago.”
“Alan Bloom endorsed that?”
“And we don’t just depend on the tests. There’s another
way Buffalo Bill’s likely to stand out in your records—he
probably tried to conceal a record of criminal violence, or
falsified other background material. Show me the ones you
turned away, Doctor.”
Danielson was shaking his head the whole time. “Examination
and interview materials are confidential.”
“Dr. Danielson, how can fraud and misrepresentation be
confidential? How does a criminal’s real name and real
background fall under the doctor-patient relationship when he
never told it to you, you had to find it out for yourself? I
know how thorough Johns Hopkins is. You’ve got cases like
that, I’m sure of it. Surgical addicts apply every place surgery’s
performed. It’s no reflection on the institution or the legitimate
patients. You think nuts don’t apply to the FBI? We get ’em
all the time. A man in a Moe hairpiece applied in St. Louis last
week. He had a bazooka, two rockets, and a bearskin shako in
his golf bag.”
“Did you hire him?”
“Help me, Dr. Danielson. Time’s eating us up. While we’re
standing here, Buffalo Bill may be turning Catherine Martin into
one of these.” Crawford put a photograph on the gleaming
counter.
“Don’t even do that,” Dr. Danielson said. “That’s a childish,
bullying thing to do. I was a battle surgeon, Mr. Crawford. Put
your picture back in your pocket.”
to mix himself an Alka-Seltzer at the stainless-steel sink behind
the nursing station. Everything was stainless steel, the cup
dispenser, the counter, the waste bin, the rims of Dr.
Danielson’s spectacles. The bright metal suggested the wink of
instruments and gave Crawford a distinct twinge in the area of
his inguinal ring.
He and the doctor were alone in the little galley.
“Not without a court order, you don’t,” Dr. Danielson said
again. He was brusque this time, to counter the hospitality he’d
shown with the coffee.
Danielson was head of the Gender Identity Clinic at Johns
Hopkins and he had agreed to meet Crawford at first light,
long before morning rounds. “You’ll have to show me a
separate court order for each specific case and we’ll fight every
one. What did Columbus and Minnesota tell you—same thing,
am I right?”
“The Justice Department’s asking them right now. We have
to do this fast, Doctor. If the girl’s not dead already, he’ll kill
her soon—tonight or tomorrow. Then he’ll pick the next one,”
Crawford said.
“To even mention Buffalo Bill in the same breath with the
problems we treat here is ignorant and unfair and dangerous,
Mr. Crawford. It makes my hair stand on end. It’s taken
years—we’re not through yet—showing the public that
transsexuals aren’t crazy, they aren’t perverts, they aren’t
queers, whatever that is—”
“I agree with you—”
“Hold on. The incidence of violence among transsexuals is a
lot lower than in the general population. These are decent
people with a real problem—a famously intransigent problem.
They deserve help and we can give it. I’m not having a witch
hunt here. We’ve never violated a patient’s confidence, and we
never will. Better start from there, Mr. Crawford.”
For months now in his private life, Crawford had been
cultivating his wife’s doctors and nurses, trying to weasel every
minute advantage for her. He was pretty sick of doctors. But
this was not his private life. This was Baltimore and it was
business. Be nice now.
“Then I haven’t made myself clear, Doctor. My fault—it’s
early, I’m not a morning person. The whole idea is, the man
we want is not your patient. It would be someone you refused
because you recognized that he was not a transsexual. We’re
not flying blind here—I’ll show you some specific ways he’d
deviate from typical transsexual patterns in your personality
inventories. Here’s a short list of things your staff could look
for among your rejects.”
Dr. Danielson rubbed the side of his nose with his finger as
he read. He handed the paper back. “That’s original, Mr.
Crawford. In fact it’s extremely bizarre, and that’s a word I
don’t use very often. May I ask who provided you with that
piece of … conjecture?”
I don’t think you’d like to know that, Dr. Danielson. “The
Behavioral Science staff,” Crawford said, “in consultation with
Dr. Alan Bloom at the University of Chicago.”
“Alan Bloom endorsed that?”
“And we don’t just depend on the tests. There’s another
way Buffalo Bill’s likely to stand out in your records—he
probably tried to conceal a record of criminal violence, or
falsified other background material. Show me the ones you
turned away, Doctor.”
Danielson was shaking his head the whole time. “Examination
and interview materials are confidential.”
“Dr. Danielson, how can fraud and misrepresentation be
confidential? How does a criminal’s real name and real
background fall under the doctor-patient relationship when he
never told it to you, you had to find it out for yourself? I
know how thorough Johns Hopkins is. You’ve got cases like
that, I’m sure of it. Surgical addicts apply every place surgery’s
performed. It’s no reflection on the institution or the legitimate
patients. You think nuts don’t apply to the FBI? We get ’em
all the time. A man in a Moe hairpiece applied in St. Louis last
week. He had a bazooka, two rockets, and a bearskin shako in
his golf bag.”
“Did you hire him?”
“Help me, Dr. Danielson. Time’s eating us up. While we’re
standing here, Buffalo Bill may be turning Catherine Martin into
one of these.” Crawford put a photograph on the gleaming
counter.
“Don’t even do that,” Dr. Danielson said. “That’s a childish,
bullying thing to do. I was a battle surgeon, Mr. Crawford. Put
your picture back in your pocket.”
- Joined
- May 23, 2020
Shit, didn’t catch that - was horrified enough trying to comprehend that someone like this even exists, and isn’t joking, that I scrolled right past it. Guess that alongside all his other perversions it’s no surprise that he’s also a nonce (but most of them are considering they want to expose kids to this madness).
- Joined
- Feb 16, 2021
I get that trauma can affect people in weird ways, but if your wife just tried to an hero and your first thought is 'I better let Reddit know about this and provide them with constant updates' you might be an actual psychopath.View attachment 2333976
which one of ya'll was this
View attachment 2333979
Jeeeeze the amount of stories like this are fuuucked
troon said he might delete the post so I archived it here just incase
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2021
As I've said before, I think autism is the only true one because he was banging that drum before he decided to really use the internet, and his transport obsession went back that far too. Some of the other ailments he seems to be larping are after knowing/seeing other people with them get extra help/attention, much like with the trooning happening after knowing/seeing a couple of other people receive positive and increased attention over it. All I can say is that for someone so selfish and callous when it came to dealing with other people's disabilities in the past, it's delicious karma if he does have any of his claimed conditions and people aren't taking them into consideration. Not so fun when the shoe's on the other foot, is it Tiddy? He couldn't stand things not being about him back then either and at this point I doubt that'll ever change.
Here is where he learned his trade by dossing around daily, squirrelling away knowledge on other people's problems and learning how to adopt them as his own like a leech. I wasn't kidding before when I said the place was known as MAP lol. He's long aged out of their services now so it's not worth contacting them or anything, just some background info on how and where this sort of behaviour can start. He wasn't the only person who went there to do it, but he seems to have ended up by far the worst for it, and is still doing it.
- Joined
- Nov 8, 2018
"I'll show you, Dad!"
- Joined
- Feb 15, 2020
It’s rude to stare at a woman’s penis
(By Jarvis Dupont aka Lisa Graves)
I decided to treat myself to an afternoon of pampering at a health spa. I felt sure my anxiety-ridden bones would benefit from a nice long soak in some warm, soothing, vitamin-infused waters. I convinced myself that a deep massage, followed by a detoxifying celery juice smoothie would exorcise my inner demons and factory reset my mind’s iOS to pre-COVID levels of tranquility.
Oh, dear reader, how wrong I was. For I had omitted to include the torrent of anti-trans bigotry I would encounter at the spa. As traumatic as it is, I shall relive my experience for you here so that it may never be repeated.
As a trans woman, I am no stranger to uneducated TERFs and their ‘gender critical’ ignorance. Their high-school-biology-level of insistence that women are ‘adult human females’, coupled with the toxic attitude that females deserve the right to their own spaces for ‘safeguarding reasons’ is emotionally violent and physically harmful towards male-bodied females like me. Nevertheless, I admit that even I was not prepared for the terrifying ordeal into which I was about to unwittingly step.
I arrived at the Mindfulnest Spa with high expectations of a spiritually relaxing experience. I checked myself in at the desk for their ‘Simply Soak’ and ‘Rub-Me-Gud’ packages and was impressed when the receptionist asked me what pronouns I use. Well, what she actually did was clock my vibrant shade of lip gloss and while jotting down my details carefully inquired, ‘Erm…are you a “Sir” or a “Madam”?” but that was good enough for me (although I noted she made no accommodation for nonbinary individuals, and I made a mental note to report her before leaving the premises).
I made my way to the women’s changing area so that I could undress in preparation for my probiotic soak. Probiotics are beneficial for women’s health, restoring and promoting the natural balance of friendly bacteria in the vaginal passage, and I was looking forward to the positive effect they would have on my ‘outy’. I removed my clothes and after performing a few lunges to loosen up my chakra I was about to don my spa robe…when suddenly I felt very vulnerable. I could sense eyes upon me. I turned slightly and was horrified to discover every trans woman’s nightmare: the perverted stare of a bigoted child, eye-raping my ball-bag. Even worse than that was the young girl’s mother, also gawping (almost hungrily it seemed to me) at my female penis.
I hurriedly snatched up my clothes, running back into the reception area. The assault I had just experienced had left my mind in tatters. I’d forgotten I was still naked and instead of picking up my clothes I’d mistakenly grabbed the child’s Tickle-Me-Elmo doll which to add insult to injury had begun to laugh hysterically. The foyer was filled with people, each one of them assaulting my genitals with their uneducated faces. The mother came running into the foyer with her depraved six-year-old child in tow, no doubt eager for another glance at my womanly scrotum. To my abject horror the mother lunged at me and I screamed, recoiling from her rapey fists, absolutely stunned that she would sexually abuse me in front of an audience, when I realized she was snatching back her child’s doll.
She was enraged and shouting obscenities, accusing ME of assaulting HER and her daughter! I felt so insulted by this I almost burst into tears, when thankfully a brave hipster wokebro stepped forward and covered my ladysack with his man-bag. ‘Stop right there,’ he said to the hysterical mother. ‘This stunning and brave trans woman was using the locker room to air her female schlong and you and your child decided to attack her in a sexual way with your conservative faces. You should be ashamed and subsequently ousted from society for your violent invasion of this fragile female penis owner’s privacy.’ The woman stopped shouting and just stood there, being intolerant. Her child glared at the floor, uneducatedly.
To my surprise, one by one, the other people in the foyer started clapping. The receptionist came out from behind the desk and told the women and her child that she had already called the police and they were sending a squad car to arrest them both for ocular violation of a trans woman’s penis. I felt so relieved. My faith had been restored. I was so happy, my Joan Thomas was partially erect, but NOT, and I have to stress this, NOT in a sexual way.
So that was my experience. Traumatic but with a bittersweet ending. I never will get the look on the face of that TERF child as she gazed wantonly at my junk out of my head. It left me afraid. I can no longer risk going near an elementary school in case I am triggered by the sight of another lecherous demon spawn. But at the same time, I feel blessed to have been surrounded that day by Good People. People who understood that my safety was the most important thing, and that it is simply not acceptable for a mother and her daughter to be staring at another woman’s penis in a female locker room.
I still reported the receptionist, however. There’s no excuse for nonbinary exclusion.
(By Jarvis Dupont aka Lisa Graves)
I decided to treat myself to an afternoon of pampering at a health spa. I felt sure my anxiety-ridden bones would benefit from a nice long soak in some warm, soothing, vitamin-infused waters. I convinced myself that a deep massage, followed by a detoxifying celery juice smoothie would exorcise my inner demons and factory reset my mind’s iOS to pre-COVID levels of tranquility.
Oh, dear reader, how wrong I was. For I had omitted to include the torrent of anti-trans bigotry I would encounter at the spa. As traumatic as it is, I shall relive my experience for you here so that it may never be repeated.
As a trans woman, I am no stranger to uneducated TERFs and their ‘gender critical’ ignorance. Their high-school-biology-level of insistence that women are ‘adult human females’, coupled with the toxic attitude that females deserve the right to their own spaces for ‘safeguarding reasons’ is emotionally violent and physically harmful towards male-bodied females like me. Nevertheless, I admit that even I was not prepared for the terrifying ordeal into which I was about to unwittingly step.
I arrived at the Mindfulnest Spa with high expectations of a spiritually relaxing experience. I checked myself in at the desk for their ‘Simply Soak’ and ‘Rub-Me-Gud’ packages and was impressed when the receptionist asked me what pronouns I use. Well, what she actually did was clock my vibrant shade of lip gloss and while jotting down my details carefully inquired, ‘Erm…are you a “Sir” or a “Madam”?” but that was good enough for me (although I noted she made no accommodation for nonbinary individuals, and I made a mental note to report her before leaving the premises).
I made my way to the women’s changing area so that I could undress in preparation for my probiotic soak. Probiotics are beneficial for women’s health, restoring and promoting the natural balance of friendly bacteria in the vaginal passage, and I was looking forward to the positive effect they would have on my ‘outy’. I removed my clothes and after performing a few lunges to loosen up my chakra I was about to don my spa robe…when suddenly I felt very vulnerable. I could sense eyes upon me. I turned slightly and was horrified to discover every trans woman’s nightmare: the perverted stare of a bigoted child, eye-raping my ball-bag. Even worse than that was the young girl’s mother, also gawping (almost hungrily it seemed to me) at my female penis.
I hurriedly snatched up my clothes, running back into the reception area. The assault I had just experienced had left my mind in tatters. I’d forgotten I was still naked and instead of picking up my clothes I’d mistakenly grabbed the child’s Tickle-Me-Elmo doll which to add insult to injury had begun to laugh hysterically. The foyer was filled with people, each one of them assaulting my genitals with their uneducated faces. The mother came running into the foyer with her depraved six-year-old child in tow, no doubt eager for another glance at my womanly scrotum. To my abject horror the mother lunged at me and I screamed, recoiling from her rapey fists, absolutely stunned that she would sexually abuse me in front of an audience, when I realized she was snatching back her child’s doll.
She was enraged and shouting obscenities, accusing ME of assaulting HER and her daughter! I felt so insulted by this I almost burst into tears, when thankfully a brave hipster wokebro stepped forward and covered my ladysack with his man-bag. ‘Stop right there,’ he said to the hysterical mother. ‘This stunning and brave trans woman was using the locker room to air her female schlong and you and your child decided to attack her in a sexual way with your conservative faces. You should be ashamed and subsequently ousted from society for your violent invasion of this fragile female penis owner’s privacy.’ The woman stopped shouting and just stood there, being intolerant. Her child glared at the floor, uneducatedly.
To my surprise, one by one, the other people in the foyer started clapping. The receptionist came out from behind the desk and told the women and her child that she had already called the police and they were sending a squad car to arrest them both for ocular violation of a trans woman’s penis. I felt so relieved. My faith had been restored. I was so happy, my Joan Thomas was partially erect, but NOT, and I have to stress this, NOT in a sexual way.
So that was my experience. Traumatic but with a bittersweet ending. I never will get the look on the face of that TERF child as she gazed wantonly at my junk out of my head. It left me afraid. I can no longer risk going near an elementary school in case I am triggered by the sight of another lecherous demon spawn. But at the same time, I feel blessed to have been surrounded that day by Good People. People who understood that my safety was the most important thing, and that it is simply not acceptable for a mother and her daughter to be staring at another woman’s penis in a female locker room.
I still reported the receptionist, however. There’s no excuse for nonbinary exclusion.
- Joined
- Dec 19, 2019
Sorry, fictitious novel doctor, you are completely wrong on all accounts. If only you had a time machine.
I think 'obesity' is the first and foremost condition that immediately catches the eye with Petrelli.
- Joined
- Aug 11, 2019
I find it quite worrying that the public don't appear to understand that the whole "trans" and "non-binary" "movement" is the reanimated shambling corpse of the gay rights movement, that after having achieved full acceptance for gays these enormous gay rights organisations found themselves in possession of a huge lobbying infrastructure with no purpose and more importantly no money coming in. Critical theory is a perfect tool for filling the void. It's ridiculous, incoherent, nonsensical, a belief system in total denial of empirical reality and will be aggressively resisted by anyone with more than one brain cell. In short, it's the perfect basis for these organisations because it's marketable as a "good cause" yet its end goal is impossible to achieve, so there's no danger of them ever getting even half of what they demand and the money drying up. The down side however is the total hollowing out of society and the destruction of educational standards, critical thinking, free speech, women's rights, children's bodies and minds and even the notion of empirical reality itself, but I guess that's a price worth paying if it means that mentally ill porn addicts in dresses get to wave their cocks around in front of frightened kids. Embrace the future, bigot!
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2021
Absolutely, which is more amusing when MAP used to run a healthy eating/cooking course, which was one of the few things he didn't try to insert himself into there. He and others who frequented the place would often claim to have the problems of other service users though. Like modern Twitter, really. The obesity and autism are definitely his own, but the being a 'plural' is stolen from someone else (a couple of people at MAP tried claiming the condition as a problem they had long before it was cool to do it on the internet) and I'd wager the claims of fibro and ADHD are because he's known others with them.
- Joined
- Feb 21, 2021
- Joined
- May 5, 2020
Cosima advocates for puberty blockers.
- Joined
- Jun 15, 2020
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2019
Yikes. It really is all about angles. I never noticed how broad his shoulders are and he definitely edits his pictures to hide the Hank Hill ass.
I have a bit of a soft spot for Robert because I know he pisses off all the hons and troonsbians. At the end of the day, he's still a delusional male who thinks he has a right to women's spaces, but at least he doesn't completely deny his sex.
- Joined
- Feb 21, 2021
He uses body filters which is fucking hilarious. He literally has the most male shape
- Joined
- Jul 19, 2019
Oh, of fucking course he tries to publicly shame the guy as an ableist monster. Just goes out of his way to be a jerk to people in the guise of "educating."
- Joined
- Nov 15, 2017
Republicans will cave in to trannies just like they did to normal gays.