The Trannytittygate scramble

As the “Biden” junta trips over itself desperately trying to backpedal on the White House “Pride Party” Trannytittygate fiasco, Stacey Lennox offers some excellent suggestions on how the object lesson might be driven fully home for these inept, bumbling doofi.

Maybe don’t live your truth and express your joy in front of kids at an official government function. This was predictable as soon as hosting YouTube stars at the White House became a thing. It started with a woman who bathed in Fruit Loops, moved on to Dylan Mulvaney looking like a garish Audrey Hepburn with an Adam’s apple, and ended with people stripping on the White House lawn. Our enemies are laughing.

Hell, can you blame ‘em? At this point, I’M laughing right along with them myself.

If a bit of embarrassment is all it takes to roll back the revolutionary LBGT+ lunacy, here are a few other things we should demand the White House schedule immediately. First, have Joe Biden attend a “family” drag show in a tavern. Put him right in the front row to observe how grown men in dresses interact with children. If he’s lucky, the organizers will let him sniff the hair of a kid or two.

Then, they should send Jill Biden to a local junior high. As an educator, this should be an easy ask. During her visit, she needs to read aloud selected passages of Gender Queer on camera. Remember, these books are necessary, so there is no reason the event should not stream live on Twitter.

As compassionate as she is, she should visit at least one teen boy and one teen girl in the hospital after transition surgery. Then the butcher who performed the double mastectomy or orchiectomy should explain the surgery and recovery in detail. She should also meet with Jazz Jennings’s mother, who can describe the lifelong “wound care” for boys who receive vaginoplasties. Again, these events should be broadcast live, preferably before the end of Pride month.

Then, I would like the president and his wife to welcome Chloe Cole to the White House. Cole is a young woman suing the doctors who provided her testosterone and performed a double mastectomy as a teen. They should be forced to look her in the eye and assure her she received “life-saving care” because nothing could be further from the truth.

Sounds good to me, I’m all in. Let’s do this, people!

One of these things is not is JUST like the other

Sgt Mom sounds off, five by five.

Some days ago, Buck T. at Ace of Spades HQ linked to this essay regarding the great Satanic Day Care Abuse Panic, and how elements of that exercise in public/law enforcement/media insanity duplicates many of the features of the current Trans-Kids! Eleventy!!! panic. Which it does, in some respects, especially in how the establishment news media elevated the panic …because that’s what the media do: Scare the ever-living-snot out of the reading/viewing public because that is what sells issues and page views. Once the panic-train gets going, every cynical exploiter of the panic wants to leap aboard the current trend.

There are some differences, though. It’s not just so-called child-abuse therapists and ambitious law-enforcement on the make, as it eventually turned out with Satanic Panic. Now it’s a particularly vicious combine; messed-up adults wanting to generate a good supply of similarly messed up juniors so as to have their pick of sexual partners down the line, deranged parents looking for social kudos among their peers, and teens going through the awkward stage being influenced by social media to no good end. It has also been suggested in a couple of different comment threads that it’s an out for white teens and pre-teens being blamed for everything imaginable under the sun. They can climb a couple of more levels above their status as white oppressors by joining another and slightly higher class of the so-called oppressed. The current trans-fad also gives a perfect out for messed up adults to get a sexual kick out of displaying their particular kinks in front of an audience – no matter if it is their kindergarten class, the genuine women in a gym changing room or a Target bathroom. And let’s not forget how a certain class of medical specialists appear eager to ensure a long and substantial income stream, from ministering at a profit to those patients who have actually signed on to an unending round of hormones and surgery – surgeries which don’t appear from the testimonies of those unfortunates who opted for them in haste and now have repented at leisure.

As for me, my flag is nailed to the mast. One cannot change sex. It’s in your DNA, and obvious (for all but an unfortunate few) at the moment of development in the womb. Live as you want; put on a dress, grow your hair long, put on makeup and call yourself Loretta. It changes nothing about your DNA.

I’m with ya one hunnerd and ten percent on that one, Sarge. Having been well past the age of majority back when it occurred, I vividly remember the Great Satanic Panic hysteria my own self. The differences between then and now are there all right, and they’re quite real. But the biggest difference, and probably the most damaging of them in terms of societal harmony and cohesion, is that today the volume of such media-manufactured panics is greatly amplified by social media, ubiquitous cell phones and tablets, and the Innarnutz itself—where hysteria can easily travel around the globe two or three times before the truth has even had time to find its boots, much less get them on.

Another major difference looming large over all of us is that back then, the Enemedia monolith hadn’t gone wholly over to the side of Leftist delusion, deceit, and batshit insanity—or at least were a lot more cautious about putting their in-built bias proudly on display for one and all to see. Y’know, as it has now.

No fate except what we make—or DON’T make

Leftism: a self-solving problem.

Go Ahead, Fly That Rainbow Flag
But before you do, realize one thing: When you advocate for this — which is beyond your personal choice and into trying to influence others to “celebrate” or “join” it — you are advocating for the literal suicide of your own species.

Don’t kid yourself. Just look here.

At 1.784 births per female over her lifetime each generation produces 0.892 of itself in children. Some small percentage of those children die before reaching sexual maturity and thus the capacity to reproduce themselves, but we’ll ignore that and count it as zero.

A “generation” is about 20-30 years on a “family” basis. That is, that’s when the next generation begins to have children. But on a social basis — that is, across society, its the bookends that matter and the generally-accepted number of generations in the last 100 years is roughly six. I’ll call it five — or 20 years per.

Well, at the current rate by 2200 the “replacement” population of the United States will be one third of what it is now — and headed toward zero.

By the way at one third of the current population in “replacement value” you had better pray the things that need to be done today by people (e.g. building roads, etc.) are all done by robots because if they’re not society will collapse as the basic requirements to maintain it will be lost. Indeed that will happen well before we get to that point.

I will not be alive to see that but my daughter has reasonably-good odds to be.

If you have children under 18 yours almost-certainly will live long enough to see that.

In other words if you’re an adult and put up with this crap you are committing the literal slow suicide of your own species.

On a somewhat related note, it’s long been my own contrarian, tongue-in-cheek theory that, rather than opposing abortion on moral and philosophical grounds, conservatives should perhaps consider encouraging it, on strictly practical ones. Since it will be mostly shitlibs who avail themselves of this beautiful, uplifting womens’ “health care” “choice,” all we’d have to do to be rid of them forever is just sit back and wait them out—eventually they’ll all die off, and POOF! Just like that, all our national political and cultural problems will be gone like smoke on a gusty day.

(Via WRSA)

Uncle Sam’s EXTREMELY Misguided Children

Via Divemedic, a vidya of the world’s mightiest, most feared, veritably-invincible military force at, umm, play.


Jeez-O-Pete. Bet his DI is mighty proud of this life-taker and heartbreaker. I only wish R Lee Ermey was still around to offer his take on this disgraceful shit-stain upon a once-proud uniform. Then again, I think it’s safe to say we already know what his opinion would be.

Amerikan Bacchanalia

Surely some revelation is at hand; surely the Second Coming is at hand.

SHOCKING VIDEO: Transgender Influencer Goes Topless at White House Pride Event
During the White House’s Pride Celebration on the South Lawn on Saturday, many Americans rebuked the flag display as disrespectful and not in line with the proper flag code. But, the desecration of all respected norms and markers of our national pride didn’t stop there. Transgender Tik Tok influencer Rose Montoya decided to go topless, along with others.

In a video posted to Montoya’s Tik Tok account, clips of President Joe Biden and First Lady Jill Biden giving pep-talk affirmations of “you are love” and “you belong” are featured. In the next segment, Montoya is seen greeting both Jill and Joe Biden, saying:

Hi, Mr. President. Trans rights are human rights.

Then the President is seen, looking confused and failing to successfully take a selfie, as Montoya laughs saying:

Oh, it’s a video!

The video cuts to Montoya dancing provocatively in front of a barrier adorned with the Seal of the President of the United States, while waiving a transgender flag and making sure their butt wiggling is captured for online audiences.

Three people are featured in the clip, exposing their chests while two are touching their bare nipples. Montoya, a biological male, jiggles implanted breasts in their hands while smiling for the camera. The individual shown last in the clip is a biological woman who had their breasts removed, leaving scarring. Defiant in the face of the dishonor Montoya’s actions bestowed upon our capital, the final clip is more self-absorbed vapid antics, posing, and blowing kisses to the camera.

Self-absorbed, vapid, posing, gratuitously obscene—to paraphrase one of wildly-overrated Springsteen-wannabe John Cougar Melonhead’s shitty, melodramatic songs, ain’t that Amerika v2.0.

What a fucking disgrace. Or, to paraphrase the voiceover chant from the ’68 Democrat Convention riot in Chicago, which Chicago Transit Authority used as the intro for track 1, side 4 of their entirely brilliant CTA debut album: The whole world’s laughing! The whole world’s laughing! The whole world’s laughing!

Meh, not their best song by any means. Here’s a much better one from the same LP, featuring a characteristically blistering showcase performance from their late guitarist Terry Kath.

Now that’s some gooood squishy right there. Eat your heart out, John Cougar Melonhead.

Update! OH HOLY CRAP! A live version of “I’m A Man” just popped up in the ol’ YewToob feed, in which Kath is just positively smoking hot. I’ma have to switch the vid to that one. WORK that wah, Terry!

Updated update! Fuck all that Biden/tranny freakshow noise, here’s a backgrounder on the great Terry Kath as a palate-cleanser, for those of you who might not know much about the guy.

Terry Alan Kath (January 31, 1946 – January 23, 1978) was an American guitarist, singer and songwriter, best known as a founding member of the rock band Chicago. He played guitar and sang lead vocals on many of the band’s early hit singles. He has been praised by his bandmates and other musicians for his guitar skills and Ray Charles–influenced vocal style, and was said to be one of Jimi Hendrix’s favorite guitarists.

Growing up in a musical family, Kath took up a variety of instruments in his teens, including the drums and banjo. He played bass in a number of bands in the mid-1960s, before settling on the guitar when forming the group that became Chicago. His guitar playing was an important component of the group’s sound from the start of their career. He used a number of different guitars, but eventually became identified with a Fender Telecaster fitted with a single neck-position humbucker pickup combined with a bridge position angled single-coil pickup and decorated with numerous stickers.

Kath struggled with health issues and drug abuse towards the end of the 1970s. He died in January 1978 from an unintentional self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. The bereavement tempted Chicago to disband, but they ultimately decided to resume as is signified by their memorial song “Alive Again”. To commemorate his musicianship, they issued the 1997 album The Innovative Guitar of Terry Kath. In 2016, Kath’s daughter Michelle Sinclair released the documentary The Terry Kath Experience, which chronicles his life and Chicago’s early years.

Kath was born to Raymond Elmer “Ray” (1912–2003) and Evelyn Meline Haugen Kath (1916–1982) on Thursday, January 31, 1946, in Chicago, Illinois. He had an older brother, Rod Kath, was raised in the Norwood Park neighborhood of Chicago, and attended Taft High School.

His brother played the drums and his mother played the banjo, and Kath attempted to learn these instruments too. He acquired a guitar and amplifier when he was in the ninth grade, and his early influences included The Ventures, Johnny Smith, Dick Dale, and Howard Roberts. He was later influenced by George Benson, Kenny Burrell, Mike Bloomfield, Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix.

Unlike several other Chicago members who received formal music training, Kath was mostly self-taught and enjoyed jamming. In a 1971 interview for Guitar Player, he said he had tried professional lessons but abandoned them, adding “All I wanted to do was play those rock and roll chords.” His father wanted him to have a steady career, but he decided he would prefer a career in music.

Self-taught, a multi-instrumentalist, with all the right musical influences: all pretty typical of the very best guitar players, actually. The bit about him being one of Hendrix’s faves isn’t just “said to be,” by the way; Hendrix himself is known to have said that very thing many times, along with his oft-professed admiration for Billy Gibbons and Mountain-man Leslie West. Yes, yes, yes, stop yelling, I’m gonna embed that one too.

One of my all-time favorites for sure, and a bona fide classic.

Update to the updated update! And just like that, down a Leslie West rabbit hole I go.

Known far and wide as a true monster of the ever-elusive, almighty tone, West produced one of the boldest, most perfect sounds in rock using only a single-P90, single-cut, El Cheapo Gibson LP Junior and a pair of extensively re-jiggered Sunn (ick!) PA amps which, according to West, had formerly belonged to Jimi Hendrix. Thoughts on the subject, from the acknowledged master:

In acknowledging the guitarist’s monumental influence, nearly everyone sooner or later (and often immediately) seizes upon the same word: tone.

The sound that West achieved with a P-90-loaded Gibson Les Paul Junior has been consistently cited as one of the most distinctive in rock music. His sonic signature is a thick, singing tone that has both weight and depth, and a vibrato that can sustain a note for days.

His phrasing is all about economy. The man wasted not a single note to overplaying, or tried to dazzle with bombastic flurries of speed.

As he said many times, his aim was to create solos that could be sung, and music that moved the heart and soul, rather than impressed minds with its technical prowess.

At the dawn of the age that brought forth a new breed of powerhouse guitar hero, his guitar playing immediately resonated with listeners hungry for unique voices.

West always said he wasn’t a fast player – all that mattered to him were tone and a desire to have a vibrato like a classical violinist.

As he said in 1987, “I’m no great guitarist technically, but you wanna know why people remember me? If you take a hundred players and put them in a room, ninety-nine of ’em are gonna sound the same.

“The one who plays different…that’s the one you’re gonna remember. I learned that you should think about the song, think about the chords you’re playing behind. Most of my solos come right out of those chords. You play the notes within the chords and try to pick a melody from there.”

When it came to amplifying West’s gutsy approach, a happy accident led him to finding the perfect fit.

“It was just two Sunn stacks with the [Sunn] Coliseum PA heads,” he explained. “They were Hendrix’s old amps, re-Tolexed and reconed.

“See, the PA heads had those four inputs and a master volume, which started the distortion thing for me. This was years before guitar amps had master-volume controls. The head had huge transformers and gigantic KT88 tubes, and the cabinets were loaded with Eminence speakers, which never hurt your ears even with the treble all the way up.”

It was that amp that appeared on 1970’s Climbing!, Mountain’s debut album, which included the song that would forever be linked with West: his raging hard rocker, “Mississippi Queen.”

“I’d turn the mic volume and the master all the way up, and overdrive the thing like crazy,” he said.

That’s putting it mildly, I’d say.

Back in my own NYC days, West had a weekly gig at some little venue or other, can’t remember which one it was. My two greatest regrets about what were some of the absolute best years of my life were that I never did go to see him, and same-same with Les Paul himself, who in those days played every Monday at the Blue Note, I believe it was (nope, it was Fat Tuesdays). Les was famously in the habit of hanging around after the last set to autograph Les Paul guitars for anyone who brought one in; like the fool that I am, I always told myself “Yeah, I’m gonna get up there and get my TV-model LP signed soon,” but I never did. And now I never will, alas.

Crap In A Barrel

Going down hard.


Meh, no great loss as far as I’m concerned, their food always sucked anyway. The best part? This.

It may not just be ESG pressure, there is every possibility that Cracker Barrel hired an Ivy League MBA to work some magic on its brand image, just like Bud Light did.

Whatever the case, Cracker Barrel stock is now in free fall.

At the beginning of June Pride Month, Cracker Barrel stock (CBRL) was trading at $102 per share. It is now down to $91 per share, losing $4 per share on Friday alone.

Like Target and Anheuser Busch, Cracker Barrel is committing stock market seppuku. In barely a week (during which the stock market rose) Cracker Barrel lost 11% of its value.

Oh well, even if heartland American stop going to Cracker Barrel, maybe those lost customers can be replaced by coastal leftists who are all wrapped up in sexual identities. So long as Cracker Barrel pivots to serving sustainable, organic, locally sourced, GMO-free fare in hip, urban settings, there should be no problem replacing the customer base that is being run off.

May those Wokester CEOs at Crap In A Barrel have joy of their choice.

Wardrobe malfunction

The “girl” can’t help it.

Non-binary ex-Biden official Sam Brinton arrested for yet another baggage theft
Brinton is being charged with grand larceny in third airport baggage theft case

Sam Brinton, the embattled former senior Department of Energy (DOE) official, was arrested as a “fugitive from justice” by Maryland police late Wednesday.

According to county records reviewed by Fox News Digital, Brinton was taken into custody in Rockville. A spokesperson for the Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority (MWAA) Police, which is the lead law enforcement agency for both Washington, D.C., area airports, said the arrest was related to the theft of airport luggage, the third such criminal case involving Brinton.

“Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority Police executed a search warrant May 17 in Montgomery County, Maryland, in connection with allegations of stolen property in luggage from Reagan National Airport that was brought to the department’s attention in February 2023,” James Johnson, a spokesperson for the MWAA, told Fox News Digital in an email.

The arrest comes a month after Brinton — who made headlines last year after being appointed to the position that oversees nuclear waste policy at the DOE’s Office of Nuclear Energy as a non-binary gender-fluid person — escaped jail time in two separate cases in Minnesota and Nevada involving luggage thefts.

No worries, I’m sure he’ll enjoy prison well enough—not that he’ll ever do a day’s time behind bars, of course. What better occasion to run this Little Richard classic?



NO Pride Month?

Go, Rangers!

One MLB team refuses to host LGBTQ Pride Night
June is Pride Month for the LGBTQ+ community. As a result, many Major League Baseball teams across the country are planning to host Pride Night celebrations at their ballparks – or similar promotions that celebrate the LGBTQ+ community. But one team has made it clear that they will not hold such a celebration: the Texas Rangers.

While every other team across Major League Baseball has held a Pride Night or similar promotional event, the Dallas Morning News reports that Texas Rangers have not hosted a promotion to welcome and celebrate the LGBTQ+ in over two decades. Back in 2003, the team did invite several LGBTQ+ groups to the ballpark, according to The Advocate, but it was not officially marketed as any specific promotion and was met with anti-gay protests. The team has not hosted a similar event since.

Despite a push from LGBTQ+ leaders in the Dallas community, the Rangers have thus far refused to host a promotional game for the LGBTQ+ community and do not have one planned for this season. And it does not sound like they plan to host a Pride Night or a similar event in the future, either.

The Rangers are the only team in Major League Baseball not to host a Pride Night or similar promotion in the past two decades. And based on their messaging over the past few years, it doesn’t sound like that’s going to change.

WELL, then. Looks like as of now, I’m with this fellow:


Me and you both, buddy, me and you both. What the hell, they DID have the incredible Nolan Ryan hurling those hundred-plus-mph fastballs of his for ’em at the end of his world-record 27 year, four-decade-spanning career, so they can’t be all bad.

But…but…but…it’s PRIDE MONTH!

Pride this, thermackurfas.

Dear Boutique Tar-Gay,

Congrats on becoming the 2023 exemplar of United Breaks Guitars, served with a six-pack chaser of Butt Light (NYSE value: worthless). And as usual, you can’t buy this kind of business-crashing negative publicity. It always comes to the recipient absolutely free, and overly well-deserved. Braindead Tone-deaf Stupidity: Achievement Unlocked!

You idiots are no exception, and equally clueless how you managed to pour gasoline in your own lap, and then try to stub out a lit road flare with your crotch. Bravely done, mega-morons. Your entry into Jackass: Billionaire Corporate Retard Version is accepted with pleasure. Let the games begin!

The bleeding will stop the minute you stop trying to shoot your own dicks off. Over and over and over. And then make a humble and sincere apology for screwing things up so royally, on behalf of a demographically microscopic group of freaks and mental health cripples, and stop! Stop! STOP! pimping and pandering their disgusting agenda! (Clever readers will denote a subtle hint there.)

(Montgomery Wards, J.C. Penney, and Sears Roebuck & Co. would like a word with you about what happens to slow learners in the retail game. Or maybe you still have some of your Mervyn’s former executives on file somewhere. Have a nice trip; see you next fall.)

Heh. Yup; as those once-mighty outlets all found out to their suddenly-impoverished dismay, just because you’ve been around for a while doesn’t necessarily mean you always will be. High time some of these Wokester CEOs got taught that lesson, good and hard.

Opting out of Holy Pride Month™

A truly appalling how-to.

How To Speak Up And Opt Out Of ‘Pride’ Month Activities At Your Child’s School
No one is coming to stop this. Your only option is to let your own school know you will not allow your child to take part.

My friends and I are bracing for the annual rainbow onslaught poised to swamp families coast to coast this June. This year’s storm looks like a Category 5; it’s already blowing the doors off the nearby Target and wreaking havoc on the Bud Light warehouse. 

As bad as it is out in corporate land, it’s worse in the public schools, where it’s harder to see — almost like they’re trying to keep it secret! Many schools have even moved their pride events up to May so that no child is freed for summer vacation without being forced to take their required rainbow pill.

I was shocked to learn this week that not only are newborns not allowed to opt out of transgender indoctrination, but kids with Down syndrome aren’t either!

Incredibly, the Los Angeles Unified School District is doing just that. I don’t know why I’m surprised; LAUSD has never met a bad idea it didn’t immediately adopt and force on its kids. 

This week, a friend of mine sent out an email account of her shocking experience at her local public elementary school’s morning assembly. She is an educated woman, a scholar, and an artist, and her older children are linguists and classical musicians. Somehow, in the heart of Los Angeles, she has raised a Catholic family of devout and artistic children.

Her youngest is 9 and was born with Down syndrome. He is enrolled in a classroom for children like him with developmental disabilities. But his intellectual limitations end at the door to his special classroom; in the school at large, he is subject to the same gender indoctrination the other 5- to 13-year-olds are forced to undergo. Not even a child with Down syndrome is free from learning about the wonders of becoming transgender. After all, this is vital knowledge for everyone 5 and up, no matter their disabilities!

Here is her account. Some names have been changed to protect her from the mob:

Once a month, there is a school-wide assembly to which parents are invited and then a coffee with the principal. I made a point of attending both this morning. I was eager to be part of the Friday morning with my son. 

 Assembly began with a Pledge of Allegiance and a greeting by the student council. Then, five students and a staff member came to the microphone bearing various incarnations of the “pride” flag and reminded everyone that June was pride month.

Waitwaitwait—these poor, put-upon children were forced to recite—at the muzzle-end of a deadly fully-semi-automatic assault-weapon rifle gun, no doubt—the Pledge of Allegiance? UNACCEPTABLE! UNCONSCIONABLE!! INTOLERABLE!!! And here I’d thought all this time that we’d all agreed that such a horrible thing was tantamount to child abuse. Musta missed something somewhere along the line, I reckon.

The piece continues from there to relate the rest of this mom’s harrowing ordeal; as is made abundantly clear in the above excerpt, said mom is by no means the kind of slavering, pig-igner’nt, trailer-trash throwback driven to act out by her inborn H8RRRR instincts that local LA media is probably already assiduously painting her as. Like I said, it truly is appalling—not that Mom actually raised up on her hind legs and did it, but that it was necessary for her to in the first goddamned place.

This courageous mom ended up winning her fight, and that’s certainly a good thing. As the post also makes clear, she is by no means alone either, which is even better. The closing ‘graphs, although amusing in a way, also have appalling moments of their own.

Another friend, this one who sends her daughter to an elite private all-girls school in Manhattan, has taken a similar approach. She, nearly alone among the parents, refuses to let them force her 10-year-old daughter to write her pronouns whenever she writes her name. She has to opt her daughter out of the rainbow activities. 

Why? Because almost 10 percent of the eighth-grade class of girls already identifies as trans or queer, and the numbers are increasing each year. There is also a young girl at the school who identifies as a cat and walks on all fours. This is permitted. Annual tuition is $61,000 a year.

A cat, eh? What the hell, why not—although it’s gotta be pretty hard on Cat Girl’s knees, I should think, a mistake she’ll be paying for quite painfully later on in life. Myself, I identify as a wealthy, handsome, and extravagantly-hung pR0n star, and hereby demand that you people start treating me with the respectful, awestruck deference my mental disorder merits.

Get me out of the ball game

While Tom LaSorda, Dazzy Vance, and Vin Scully spin furiously in their respective graves.

This Tweet From an MLB Pitcher Is Sure to Make Leftist Sports Media Melt Down
As the Los Angeles Dodgers baseball club continues to hem-and-haw its way through a controversy created by its decision to honor a group called The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence for their supposed contributions to the City of Angels — more on their, ahem, activities from Mia here — a growing number of baseball fans and faith-based organizations have registered their disapproval of the Dodgers’ decision.

Among them, as of Tuesday afternoon, is Trevor Williams, a 31-year-old pitcher for the Washington Nationals who happens to be Catholic and decided to use his platform to speak out against the Dodgers and Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence in a statement on Twitter. His admirable decision to use his voice rather than remain silent is sure to send left-wing media — especially leftward-lurching sports media — screeching into the abyss.

“As a devout Catholic, I am deeply troubled by the Dodgers’ decision to re-invite and honor the group ‘The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence’ at their Pride Night this year,” Williams said in his tweeted statement. “A Major League Baseball game is a place where people from all walks of life should feel welcomed, something I greatly respect and support. This is the purpose of different themed nights hosted by the organization, including Price Night,” he continued.

Addressing the Dodgers back-and-forth invitation, dis-invitation, and re-invitation mess, Williams noted that, “to invite and honor a group that makes a blatant and deeply offensive mockery of my religion, and the religion of over 4 million people in Los Angeles County alone, undermines the values of respect and inclusivity that should be upheld by any organization,” Williams added.

Hrm. I’m sensing that this Williams fellow might have a leeeeeetle problem with having the “You will be made to care” agenda crammed down his gullet. This torrent of gratituous, blasphemous bigotry and hatred, spewed forth on the very eve of Opening Day for Holy Pride Month™, too? For shame, for shame. But there’s another hi-larious sideline to the Dodgers’ decidedly unforced error.

The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence are a worldwide “order” of transvestites who dress up like gaudy, sexually deviant Catholic nuns to mock the Catholic Church, adopting names such as: “Sister Porn Again; Sister Chastity Boner; Sister Sister Edith Myflesh; Sister Roz Erection; Sister Constance Craving of the Holey Desire; and Sister Risqué of the Sissytine Chapel.”

Joe Biden’s former Nuclear Waste guru, disgraced women’s luggage thief Sam Brinton, is a member of the trashy group under the name “Sister Ray Dee O’ Active.”

Heh. Well, you gotta admit, the nom de dementia certainly fits in his particular ladies’-unmentionables-obsessed case.

Baseball, the national pastime? Not for a whole lot longer, if the Wokester/PC idiots in various MLB boardrooms and head offices keep things like this up. Which, hey, is just fine by me; it’s been years and years since I paid any attention whatsoever to sportsball of any flavor anyhoo. After living my whole life til then as a rabid Braves fan, I kicked the sportsball habit for good when the big strike back in 1981 forced the cancellation of 712 games and an unprecedented split-season. Although I did miss listening to my once-beloved ballgames on the radio at first, I’ve really never looked back since.

You will be made to care

Even if—ESPECIALLY if—you don’t, not in the least.

Dying Vice Launches ‘Queer Sports’ Series, Hastens Its Demise
Dying Social Justice™ outlet Vice, apparently pathologically incapable of reform, is hastening its self-destruction by introducing a cringe segment called “Queer Sports.”

Video at the link—featuring some fat carpet-muncher dyke broad who obviously never participated in any sport not involving a comfy sofa, an xtra-jumbo-sized bag of Cheetos, and a case of designer beer in her entire life—which I won’t be embedding here, didn’t watch and have no intention of ever watching, and highly recommend you not watch yourself. Naturally, he/she/it is waving a giant rainbow fag-flag joyously around in the video screenshot, because QUEER SPORTS!!!! or something. Anyways. Onwards.

The non-binary non-athlete’s main gripe is that “pride” events hosted by nearly every major professional sports franchise are too “performative,” which is ironic given that performative Tolerance™ and Diversity™ are the entire demand.

“Are pride nights, important, Lyndsey?” the moderator prompts — as if that’s an open question subject to legitimate debate.

“I think they’re important, but I also think it’s gotten very performative,” Lyndsey replies, with an upward inflection that suggests she’s asking a question and not answering one. “Very like, ‘this is what we’re supposed to do. We’re supposed to do it in June and like, then, we’ll kind of forget about it.”

If people like Lyndsey had their druthers, every minute of every hour of every day would be a nonstop orgasmic celebration of “pride.”

This criticism of corporations bending over backward to cater to gender-obsessed ideologues at the expense of the vast majority of their customer bases who haven’t totally surrendered themselves to the Social Justice™ hive mind as “performative” is quite common within the so-called LGBTQ+++™ “community,” which is a euphemism for the insular cult of self-appointed representatives of a made-up demographic.

Ben’s conclusion is worth the price of admission all by itself, being perfectly, one-hundred-percent true.

Attributes

BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

RightWingGirls

I can see several other fine traits in the above pic that are worthy of consideration, but yeah, the no-peeny thing would have to come in first and foremost among ‘em. Sad, innit, that we’ve now reached the point where that would even figure into the equation at all.

Shamelessly swiped from WRSA.

A trifle too Satanic?

I’d say so, yeah.

Target needs to experience a Bud Light movement
It seems to me that Target, the well-known department store chain, is actively working against normal people and seeking to impose an anti-Christian, “woke”, sometimes blatantly pro-perversion ethos on its customers and our nation. Not content with “selling ‘tuck-friendly’ bathing suits, LGBTQ onesies for babies, ‘trans power’ T-shirts [and] drag queen books for young children”, the chain has now hired an openly Satanist designer to offer LGBTQ gear in its aisles.

The garments are from a company called AbPrallen, run by someone who gives his name only as “Erik”. I’ll let him describe his beliefs in this description of one of his T-shirts.

Satan Respects Pronouns Tee

Satan loves you and respects who you are. You’re important and valuable in this world and you deserve to treat yourself with love and respect.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about The Satanic Temple, and to a lesser extent, The Church of Satan, how they’re so frequently misunderstood and demonised (pun not intended) and how LGBT+ people are so often referred to as being a product of Satan or going against God’s will.

Satanists don’t actually believe in Satan, he is merely used as a symbol of passion, pride, and liberty. He means to you what you need him to mean. So for me, Satan is hope, compassion, equality, and love.

So, naturally, Satan respects pronouns. He loves all LGBT+ people. The Church of Satan openly accepts LGBT+ people, it has done since it was created in the 60s and the more recent Satanic Temple accepts them too, with open arms.

I’ve always loved the juxtaposition of “creepy” or “weird” things being presented as soft or cute and personally I think Baphomet, a mystical deity, looks very charming in their pastel colours; Baphomet themself is a mixture of genders, beings, ideas, and existences. They hardly fit into binary stereotypes.

So, Target regards a person with those views as someone who’s ideally positioned to sell products to their customers; and those who buy those products are, with their consumer dollars, supporting those views and enabling “Erik” to go on propagandizing them.

Okay then, how Satanic does Target need to be in order to be considered TOO Satanic? I mean, this definitely crosses my own personal threshold, but YMMV.

Will it NEVER end?

A: No. No, it will not.

Adidas on Wednesday became the latest woke, globalist corporation to shove the radical left trans agenda in America’s face.

The company decided to feature an ugly biological male who calls himself a woman as their newest female swimwear model.

As Fox News reported, Adidas collaborated with radical South African designer Rich Mnisi to release the “Let Love Be Your Legacy” collection and campaign. The company claims to want to “encourage allyship and freedom of expression without bias, in all spaces of sport and culture” with its campaign with Mnisi.

Mnisi said this in an Adidas news release:

In creating this collection, I had a strong impulse to speak to my inner-child and express to the world how LGBTQ+ allyship can create a legacy of love. “Unifying these themes together through my own visual language and Adidas’ iconic performance and lifestyle pieces is a powerful combination, making the collection a symbol for self-acceptance and LGBTQ+ advocacy. My hope is this range inspires LGBTQ+ allies to speak up more for the queer people they love and not let them fight for acceptance alone.

In classic woke speak, this means replacing attractive females with hideous males dressing up as women.

Because hey, as the classic Irving Berlin show-tune almost but doesn’t quite say: anything girls can do, men can do better. Among the responses over at GP is this gem.


Heh. Sure, why the hell not.

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