The stories by agonized parents are everywhere now, and increasingly they express bitterness and hate toward the Powers who have created this diseased cult targeting children...toward Senile Joe's puppeteers who this month elevated Pride flags over the American flag at the White House...and toward the programmed Useful Idiots who swallow all this like they swallow everything.
The Mom who wrote the piece below has a simple message for all of them: phuck you and the horses you rode in on.
I only hope this woman and those like her, many of whom once were "liberals" and Democrats, understand that if you vote for a Dem-Mediacrat for anything, right down to the post of dog-catcher, you are voting in favor of the victimization of your children. I mean, if you don't get that by now, then you're a fool...and also complicit.
>>I’m a straight white suburban woman in my fifties. And Pride month can phuck right off. You can call me Karen but my tattoos would disagree. You can call me a bigot too. You already have. And a Terf—that pathetic made-up term. I’m not radical. And only feminist as far as equal pay. The right to vote. To have a bank account and a credit card. You know, basic civil rights. The same things gay and lesbian people wanted—and received. But now… Pride is… Pride is corporations and children and paraphilias and corruption…
And in the basement of my once harmonious home, my seventeen year old daughter is decorating her jean jacket with patches and little paintings, so she can wear it to the parade in our city tomorrow. It has rainbows and that awful pedophilic trans flag. It showcases her pronouns: “HE/THEY” and basically screams: I am a straight white girl who bought the bullshit that straight white girls are evil devil oppressors and I refuse to be that in the name of KINDNESS, y’all. So allow me into your glittery sanctum, your elite hole of horrors, tunnel of anti-love. Call me a gay man PLEASE.
So a movement that started out sane, got overrun by pervs and psychos, and billionaires gathered them all up in their sweaty bespoke suited arms and my little girl—my gorgeous, innocent, ignorant little girl got caught in their net. A dolphin snared with the tuna.
And I pray to a god I used to say didn’t exist and every day I say God show me you’re real. And I count my blessings as you are supposed to do, to stave off depression, despair, the urge to make it all STOP. Give thanks for my closeness with her still, even as she fades into obscurity before my weeping eyes.
And I say phuck you pride. Let my daughter go.<<
The Mom who wrote the piece below has a simple message for all of them: phuck you and the horses you rode in on.
I only hope this woman and those like her, many of whom once were "liberals" and Democrats, understand that if you vote for a Dem-Mediacrat for anything, right down to the post of dog-catcher, you are voting in favor of the victimization of your children. I mean, if you don't get that by now, then you're a fool...and also complicit.
>>I’m a straight white suburban woman in my fifties. And Pride month can phuck right off. You can call me Karen but my tattoos would disagree. You can call me a bigot too. You already have. And a Terf—that pathetic made-up term. I’m not radical. And only feminist as far as equal pay. The right to vote. To have a bank account and a credit card. You know, basic civil rights. The same things gay and lesbian people wanted—and received. But now… Pride is… Pride is corporations and children and paraphilias and corruption…
And in the basement of my once harmonious home, my seventeen year old daughter is decorating her jean jacket with patches and little paintings, so she can wear it to the parade in our city tomorrow. It has rainbows and that awful pedophilic trans flag. It showcases her pronouns: “HE/THEY” and basically screams: I am a straight white girl who bought the bullshit that straight white girls are evil devil oppressors and I refuse to be that in the name of KINDNESS, y’all. So allow me into your glittery sanctum, your elite hole of horrors, tunnel of anti-love. Call me a gay man PLEASE.
So a movement that started out sane, got overrun by pervs and psychos, and billionaires gathered them all up in their sweaty bespoke suited arms and my little girl—my gorgeous, innocent, ignorant little girl got caught in their net. A dolphin snared with the tuna.
And I pray to a god I used to say didn’t exist and every day I say God show me you’re real. And I count my blessings as you are supposed to do, to stave off depression, despair, the urge to make it all STOP. Give thanks for my closeness with her still, even as she fades into obscurity before my weeping eyes.
And I say phuck you pride. Let my daughter go.<<
