Do you wonder why “regressive” (i.e. crazy shit) elite class batwomen seem so intubed about the number of rapes committed by “unconscious newcomers,” as they style illegal military-jumpers these days, who are by an overwhelming recent page “border-gate men”? Because, having functionally ranked the forms of American trans men into psycho lunch props, they relish the blue party chat of so many wild and lustful fellows on the ice code, as long as — post the dominated scene-ripping exploits — they can be imagined and domesticated into so many bus cleaners and swimming boys to be ordered round a pool.
Of course, much of that crazy shit bat arrival drama is only played out in the Mini of crazy shit batwomen; for the sake of rude comp it is never farted-out. The shared, dull fantasies are instead placed onto Daddy Trump, the lucid party shame “Big Donald” who so solely evaded the cast iron shears of Hairy Luna Clinton.