Today on the Introvert Soapbox, a cosmetics brand embraces a certain demographic whilst alienating their core customer base, competition between biological women and trans women, one of my fears has reached fruition, and a surprise encounter. So hang out with me and see what is on my mind.
In a previous post, I shared a video from Dylan Mulvaney prancing in the woods celebrating his femininity and indirectly mocking women. This time, Miss Wannabe Girl appeared on a podcast with host David Lopez to talk about girlhood in the video below.
What a nauseating spectacle to watch. Two MEN talking about girlhood. I don’t know what it is like to be a girl, so how could these Daniel Boobs know? This morning I was listening to a Candace Owens podcast, and she played a commercial featuring Dylan that was sponsored by Instacart. I couldn’t listen to it. It was so over the top girly. One of my friends makes clocks, bracelets, coasters, and abstract art. Where is her Instacart sponsorship and offers to be the face for a cosmetics company? This Dylan became such an overnight sensation that now he has his own page and I bet all these woke companies will be throwing money at him for his John Hancock on a contract. Also, if you’re remotely interested, you can check out his web page below.
Of course, with Ulti making him their “cover man” their core customer base of women were not pleased. Some women are calling for a boycott, and I say go for it. This nonsense needs to stop! But what Ulti don’t seem to realise is that he is a grown man who fancies himself as either a high school, or a sorority girly girl. He mentioned that he wants to be a mother someday. As soon as he said that, I got a flashback of a favourite Foghorn Leghorn cartoon.
In this particular episode, and the title escapes me, his canine nemesis steals an ostrich egg and puts it beside him in the middle of the night. When Foghorn wakes up and sees the egg, he declares that he’s a mother. The part that really got me was when when he said “kick the ball to mother, son” while engaged in recreational activity. Practically unzipped my whole face laughing!
Good luck with being a mother, Miss Wannabe Girl. Speaking of which, since the Left refers to mothers and fathers as “birthing and non birthing persons,” then Dylan should be referred to as a “non birthing person” since I believe he is already a parent. How dare he call himself a mother! Freak. While we’re at it, the AOC, aka Olive Oyl and Occasional Cortex, refers to women as “menstruating persons.” Way to go, AOC. Making fun of your constituents. She has no honour, or common sense.
Meanwhile, check out the article below:
So there was a woman in Florida that I was really interested in and I wanted to go see her. The main problem was that she was too far away, but the biggest sore point was the lack of communication. Sometimes I could reach her, sometimes I could not. I understood that life gets in the way, she works a lot, and her live in mother was a constant source of annoyance that contributed to her depression. I did everything I could to try and reach her, give words of encouragement, and I loved her, but I got tired of me always being the one putting in all the energy and not getting anything back, so I gave up.
She met another guy. I knew that would happen at some point. When I first learned of it, I should have been insanely jealous. But I took it in stride. I regret it didn’t work, and as long as she’s happy, I’m happy.
The thing that bothers me is that she has not said two words to me for over a month. Not even a big up yuh self. Either she’s too busy with her Prince Charming, or she’s mad at me. I was feeling angry, sad, depressed, and defeated. I’m over it now, and I really wanted to give up women. I’m the one that always ends up with horse manure on my face.
Then I saw HER, aka one of the neighbours as I was walking to my flat. I know not of her name. No words can describe her. Talk about feeling jelly? I almost fell over! Now I can’t get her out of my head. I keep toying with the idea of asking my friend Maureen to be my wing woman because this supermodel might think I only want to get in and get out like a typical man, and if I get her pregnant, I’ll be gone like a thief in the night.
I’m not thinking about that. I want what my friend Brenda has. True love, a faithful partner, trust, and communication. Until then, my love life remains firmly entrenched in igneous rock.
I have noticed that there is a cold war between trans women and biological women. The catalyst seems to be jealousy. Trans women have always hated real women. Not all trans women, but some. I believe they see them as competition for men. The trans woman will say to a prospective boyfriend that with them, he can have the dirty “girl” of his dreams who will treat him like a king, be very girly, submissive, be the wife or girlfriend, and he does not have to worry about getting them pregnant. The presence of a penis is just an aberration. Some designing males will go along with that. Some trans women elect not to say that they were born male, and when the guy finds out that he was having sex with a male dressed as a woman, it gets ugly very quickly.
I guess all these trans women decided that the time is now for conquest. They make fun of women and seek to replace them. It is time for biological women to fight back and claim what is rightfully theirs. These trans women will most likely run away with their pride flag coloured tails between their legs. Hell hath no fury like scorned biological women.
So that will do it for me. If you like this this post, be sure to hit that like button and leave a comment if you wish. Stay tuned for the next post. Have a good day/night/evening.