Cats are literally vermin and will give you brain parasites if you get too close to them. They also hate you and only want to exploit you for their own benefit.

Dogs, on the other hand, are superior in every way.

Edit: thanks for all your doggos, woofers, puppers, floofs, pupperinos, etc. each and every one of them is a good boi and v. v. heckin handsome!

I'd like to condemn @Gigavaccinator for the ban award which prevented me from participating, because I was too poor to override it due to a gambling addiction.

Sincere thanks to @GovernorOfNewYork for unbanning me.

Very sad to see there's so much hostility towards doggos on this site. Y'all need to flush out these brain worms with a big dose of a miracle from the Lord and get your testosterone levels checked.

Amirite

Prove me wrong rdrama.neet

Nobody would be a better POTUS than him.

This is a top-tier look into the mind of an extremely mentally ill man who managed to mantain some degree of awareness despite the insanity. Tbh a good read if you have time

May 10, 2021

I feel numb, unmotivated. The hopes and aspirations still are joyful fantasies for me, as much as all my questions and thoughts and philosophical musings about my significance and the purpose of life, or the possibility of their not being any point or purpose to life at all, as well as identity, isolation, god and everything else, are all still anxieties and hopes and terrors.

But it all feels dampened now, lessened. And my motivation for school, even though I know I want to do well, has shrunk almost completely, just like my motivation to reach out, talk to people, have friends. I'm probably at a place in my life and in relationships where if I did start talking to certain people more I could have real good friends. But, meh.

Meh. It's how I feel about a lot of things right now. It's bad. But maybe the alt is worse. Maybe it's because it's how I have to feel. Cause if I didn't, what then? If I couldn't just say "who cares" or "meh" to things then suddenly all the questions and thoughts about life and it's purpose and god (If he exists) and the universe and my family, and people and politics, and everything else can't wait or be ignored,

and all the questions need to be answered in some way, all the trains of thought in my head have to lead somewhere, to be resolved, the choices have to be made, the debates between ideas in my head I've learned or formed have to be won or settled. The conflicts between beliefs I have, have to be won.

And if I can't decide or answer, or I don't like the answers I've come to, then what, do I just curl up into a ball and lay there, stuck for all eternity? As long as I care I have to choose.

Not that "meh" is a much better option.

I think I might be horribly depressed. But it's not like it's the kind where you just want to die.

I feel like I am dead, and I just want to live.

....

That last line might have been slightly overdramatic, but maybe it's just that I feel good and I didn't two minutes ago when I wrote that. I'm slightly cheered up right now because I came up with that line and it sounds pretty good. Huh.

...

Cope seethe dilate. Where’s the gussy at it can’t just be @FrozenClaus

Signed,

A proud straggot

Is that bad or good?

TRANS LIVES MATTER

What's the asian equivalent of a Stacy btw?

I find them extra cute, nerdy girls are my weakness

If you're a white asiansexual a lot of people will make fun of you for it and claim you couldn't find a white girl or call you a libertarian. I think that's really not okay

1488

I send you back 700/1500 and keep the leftover 300/500 for myself. This way, we both benefit

Some black chick was causing shit during a 10 count for 9/11 victims. I have no video or anything

In case you ever wondered where all the marseys come from.

Also if you want to know which soulless heretic commissioned this abomination (paid 1000 dramacoins for it): if the community (or some single dude) pays me 15000 dramacoin I will post the name of said 'person' for all to see.

You are a real woman. You have no womb, you have no ovaries, you have no eggs, but that doesn't matter. You are a valid human who is trying to feel comfortable in her body.

All the “validation” you get is pure. Behind your back people love you. Your parents are happy and proud of you, your friends laugh at your jokes behind closed doors, and boys love you, and girls envy you.

Men absolutely love you. Trans folk who “pass” look ordinary and natural to a man. Your bone structure does not matter. Estradiol widens the hips. You will be happy. You will smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, and deep inside you feel the euphoria creeping up like a weed. It is what defines you, not the transphobes.

Eventually, it’ll be perfect for you - you’ll come out, start HRT, get top surgery, and finally be your ideal self. Your parents will find you, happy and relieved that they finally have a happy daughter. They’ll congratulate you on your hard journey, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a woman is what you are.

You will never be a real woman. You have no womb, you have no ovaries, you have no eggs. You are a homosexual man twisted by drugs and surgery into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.

All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.

Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even s who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk guy home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, infected axe wound.

You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably male.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.

army, assemble!