GenderLife Forum: The Information Exchange

Oh hello there mister man on the street who is looking at me oddly, moving to the other side of the footpath - while studiously avoiding looking at me again!
Well done, you have correctly identified me as a WOMAN WITH A PENIS!
I completely understand your predicament.
I mean, clearly you have to move to the other side of the footpath because you might somehow catch THE GAY off me. And we wouldn’t want that now. Your dress sense might drastically improve and women might actually talk to you!
Also, looking at me (i.e. my tits) after you have recognised that I have a dick will also mean that somehow you might have THE GAY.
Anyway...
You probably do have the Gay, because a sexually secure male would perhaps compliment me on my outfit or hair, smile and go about his day.
Not act like fucking Nosferatu - lurching all over the pavement while staring into the drain at an empty twinky wrapper and trying not to think about his highly confused crotch.

Oh good morning miss Obeseosaurus!
It is perfectly okay to slam transsexuals in loud whispers to your terrifyingly hungry looking squad of tent-draped walrus friends!
Just because I am thin and don’t have a face like a bucket of smashed crabs, that’s MORE than enough reason to fixate on my genitals and talk shit about myself and my sisters. I’ll do my best to ignore the fact that the only men who will ever want you are purely interested in the sloppy, cavernous oubliette between your legs and its ability to squirt out tiny human males for them to play ‘catch’ with in the yard.
Otherwise you are, quite frankly, the butt of more jokes than I am and about as desirable as a jar of jellied eel’s testicles.
And I mean that in the nastiest way possibly, you hideous, fat rock-troll.
Please, continue to shamble down the street like a squad of mobile marquees and shriek and hoot in squeaky, vapid voices which are completely at odds with your truly monstrous girth.
I’m sure that if your immense wadges of blubber don’t keep you warm at night, ragging on transsexuals will.

Then again, there are the overweight transwomen of the world who haven't said anything on the subject matter.

Probably because the walrus squad can't bitch about the size of large TS women as they are equally large and the hypocrisy is obvious even to them.
i.e. they can't whine "She's only skinny because she used to be a MAN!"

Bit crabby eh?

I'm a bad influence.

Crabby humour is the best. The purpose of refined sense of humour is to point out at the hypocrisy and bias inherent in the human condition.

True humour is not supposed to make you laugh, but to make you think. It's only used to sweeten the pill.

Humour intended to make those around laugh is vulgar because:

1) It assumes what you think funny will also be funny to others, which is monumentally arrogant;

2) It gives silly mirth status over reflection, the assimilating of unpleasant facts, and that is criminal.

That's why North American humour is not real humour. It's farts and talk of puke, it's vulgarities and someone falling on a puddle of their own pee. That's just ridicule, the McD version of humour.

Real humour is to make you think, not to make you "happy." And truly polite humour is private, without assumptions about the people around you.

I like poop jokes.

Vexing is hilarious!

Too bad ridiculing a fat bitch for being fat hurts the feelings of a fat sweetheart at whom the comments were not directed.

Good humor is excrement coated in frosting. It looks at the ugly truths about people, topics that can't be talked about in polite company, but by wrapping them in a joke, the issues become palatable.

Pick a topic, how about Racism? Eddie Murphy made a career out of wrapping that subject in humor. Trading Places in a classic comedy.

Gender issues? There have been a ton of awful movies examining the topic, but Tootsie and Some Like It Hot both won Oscars.

Marcella is right, fart jokes and America's Funniest Home Videos, aka The Kicked in the Crotch hour, are the lowest and crudest ways to get a laugh.

Har! An apt moniker!

Laughter is a fear reaction. Whether it's uncomfortable truth or poo. American's are scared to death of poo. Much more so than other countries, where people don't wear deodorant and women don't shave their legs or underarms. Those smelly, hairy f@ckers are afraid of hypocrisy and bias inherent in the human condition. But in the US, cleanliness is next to Godliness, and poo is frickin armageddon. If other countries want military parity with the US, forget nukes. Develop poo based weapons.

Is this all that's needed to bring the U.S. to its knees?