- Joined
- May 19, 2021
Is his job to help them get over their reservations? If so, I'd say he's doing a hell of a job.
📚 Megathread Tranny Sideshows on Social Media - Any small-time spectacle on Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter, Dating Sites, and other social media.
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- Joined
- Apr 16, 2013
Oh boy, an opportunity to repost this gem.
Long time ass-pube Nairer here. I'm gonna fill you in on one of my particularly painful experiences with Nair products.
Prior to my freshman year in college, I had experimented with Nair for Men Body Cream on my butt cheeks/ass pubes with a fair amount of success. I had learned that the most effective and least painful way to manscape my posterior with NFMBC was as follows: turn on the shower, let that shit heat up, hop in, soap up the cheeks (and in between), rinse, soap up, rinse off, step out, towel off (lightly and gently), apply cream to the cheeks and in between (again, lightly and gently), examine your naked body in front of the mirror while allowing the lotion work its magic ~ 8-10 minutes, hop in the shower, rinse off (making sure no cream touches the genitals), soap up, rinse off, shower as normal, towel dry, clothe yourself. The process of showering the ass with hot, soapy water prior to the lotion application was probably the most integral step; the water significantly softened the hairs, thus reducing the total necessary application time for the lotion, consequentially reducing the risk of burning the perianal skin tissue and experiencing the most intense pain and discomfort whenever trying to stand or sleep. I had Naired a few times, and after the first few trial-and-error sequences, this was the formula for pretty much eliminating any chance of burning yourself due to overexposure from the lotion.
Fast forward to my freshman year in college: I had stocked up on the Nair lotion when shopping for school, only this time, I had purchased the Nair Hair Remover Lotion for Women. I figured that the formula would essentially be the same, and that the necessary application times would be somewhat similar to those in the NFMBC. And for whatever strange, idiotic reason, I decided not to even glance at the suggested application times on the pink Nair bottle, somehow equating in my head this relationship:
Nair for Men=super strong formula to remove ungodly body hair of burly man. Nair for Women=dainty little feminine cream to lift off little peach fuzz...
BIGGEST. FUCKING. MISTAKE. EVER.
Turns out, the Nair for women shit is roughly twice as strong as the NFMBC formula. And it also turns out that the recommended application times for the women's version is 4-6 minutes, as opposed to the men's version, which is 8-10 minutes.
So there I am (in an individual shower in the community bathroom on my floor), about five minutes in to the application process with the WOMEN'S Nair lotion (NOT the weaker, less intense MEN'S product), and so far, everything had gone as per usual as though it had been the NFMBC. Then I thought to myself, "Well, since this pussy shit is in a pink bottle and it's for women, might as well leave this shit on a little longer than normal to make sure I don't have to repeat the whole process again."
Five minutes later
SWEET MOTHER FUCK COCK SHIT ASS BITCH FUCK SHIT FUCK FUCK FUCK
It crept up on me like a thief in the night. There I was, minding my own business in the shower, about to peek at my phone to see how much time had elapsed, when the skin in and around my ass, ass-cheeks and genitals was lit on fire. Folks, this was the single most intense, painful, horrifyingly painful sensation I had ever experienced. After shrieking in horror, I immediately about-faced the shower head, aimed the water down toward my crotch and-
SHIT MOTHER FUCK ASS NIGGER CALCULUS MOTHER FUCKING SHIT SHIT FUCK
Folks, this was when I realized I was going to die. Spraying the water onto the skin to wash the cream off was even more intense than the cream sitting on my skin alone. I continued to shriek in horror. Prior to this moment, I had tried to restrain my exclamations (looking back on this experience, I was probably in the shower from around 7:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m., and most of the guys on my floor were eating in the cafeteria), but once the water hit, I lost awareness of the outside world, and the inner foul-mouthed-banshee within me surfaced. A few people came in and out of the bathroom during that time, a couple people were immensely curious as to what was going on with the random shrieker in shower four, but people left the scene after I managed to blurt out, "I'M FINE!", even though that was the furthest thing from the truth.
It took me about half an hour to muster up what little strength I had left to rinse off the remaining Nair, soap up (the soap application felt like what I would imagine a third-degree burn to feel like), rinse, soap up, rinse, and rinse until I was positive that every last molecule of Nair lotion had been removed from my skin. I turned off the water, and the most excruciatingly sharp pain set in in and around my ass/ass cheeks, and I began to cry softly to myself.
So there I was, naked as the day I was born, ass redder than a baboon's hind parts, flesh as raw as it could be (no bleeding), crying, ready to drink my own piss. Once I finally mustered up the courage to wrap a towel around my waist, the fabric hit my skin, and I knew that I was in for the most painful two weeks of my life. Taking shits and wiping my ass would become a time consuming task of monumental proportions, seeing that I would only be able to wad up the toilet paper and gently dab between my cheeks; wiping was out of the question. And as for sitting down on any surface - I don't want you to imagine the pain I had to endure every time I sat in class. Sleeping? A thing of the past. Even though I typically slept on my side, any time I managed to roll over onto my back without thinking, a sharp pain was sent throughout my body, causing me to lie awake in pain for another half hour before the thought of sleep was even a possibility. I think I looked at the bottle that night, right after the shower, noticed the difference in recommended application times, and I vowed to myself to never again apply anything to my body without first reading and heeding every warning on the label.
Oh, and I forgot to mention: For this particular application of Nair, I decided to also give it a shot on my pubes.
The normal pubes.
But hey, at least I didn't have to deal with any ass-pubes after that! Trying to wipe when you've got those can be a real bitch...
TL;DR: Used the Nair for Men just fine, tried out the women's version and burned the shit outta my ass and genitals. ALWAYS. READ. AND HEED. LABEL WARNINGS.
EDIT: I was fine after a month or two. The redness went away after a couple weeks of cortizone applications. You can bet your ass off that I read every damn word on that tube.
Prior to my freshman year in college, I had experimented with Nair for Men Body Cream on my butt cheeks/ass pubes with a fair amount of success. I had learned that the most effective and least painful way to manscape my posterior with NFMBC was as follows: turn on the shower, let that shit heat up, hop in, soap up the cheeks (and in between), rinse, soap up, rinse off, step out, towel off (lightly and gently), apply cream to the cheeks and in between (again, lightly and gently), examine your naked body in front of the mirror while allowing the lotion work its magic ~ 8-10 minutes, hop in the shower, rinse off (making sure no cream touches the genitals), soap up, rinse off, shower as normal, towel dry, clothe yourself. The process of showering the ass with hot, soapy water prior to the lotion application was probably the most integral step; the water significantly softened the hairs, thus reducing the total necessary application time for the lotion, consequentially reducing the risk of burning the perianal skin tissue and experiencing the most intense pain and discomfort whenever trying to stand or sleep. I had Naired a few times, and after the first few trial-and-error sequences, this was the formula for pretty much eliminating any chance of burning yourself due to overexposure from the lotion.
Fast forward to my freshman year in college: I had stocked up on the Nair lotion when shopping for school, only this time, I had purchased the Nair Hair Remover Lotion for Women. I figured that the formula would essentially be the same, and that the necessary application times would be somewhat similar to those in the NFMBC. And for whatever strange, idiotic reason, I decided not to even glance at the suggested application times on the pink Nair bottle, somehow equating in my head this relationship:
Nair for Men=super strong formula to remove ungodly body hair of burly man. Nair for Women=dainty little feminine cream to lift off little peach fuzz...
BIGGEST. FUCKING. MISTAKE. EVER.
Turns out, the Nair for women shit is roughly twice as strong as the NFMBC formula. And it also turns out that the recommended application times for the women's version is 4-6 minutes, as opposed to the men's version, which is 8-10 minutes.
So there I am (in an individual shower in the community bathroom on my floor), about five minutes in to the application process with the WOMEN'S Nair lotion (NOT the weaker, less intense MEN'S product), and so far, everything had gone as per usual as though it had been the NFMBC. Then I thought to myself, "Well, since this pussy shit is in a pink bottle and it's for women, might as well leave this shit on a little longer than normal to make sure I don't have to repeat the whole process again."
Five minutes later
SWEET MOTHER FUCK COCK SHIT ASS BITCH FUCK SHIT FUCK FUCK FUCK
It crept up on me like a thief in the night. There I was, minding my own business in the shower, about to peek at my phone to see how much time had elapsed, when the skin in and around my ass, ass-cheeks and genitals was lit on fire. Folks, this was the single most intense, painful, horrifyingly painful sensation I had ever experienced. After shrieking in horror, I immediately about-faced the shower head, aimed the water down toward my crotch and-
SHIT MOTHER FUCK ASS NIGGER CALCULUS MOTHER FUCKING SHIT SHIT FUCK
Folks, this was when I realized I was going to die. Spraying the water onto the skin to wash the cream off was even more intense than the cream sitting on my skin alone. I continued to shriek in horror. Prior to this moment, I had tried to restrain my exclamations (looking back on this experience, I was probably in the shower from around 7:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m., and most of the guys on my floor were eating in the cafeteria), but once the water hit, I lost awareness of the outside world, and the inner foul-mouthed-banshee within me surfaced. A few people came in and out of the bathroom during that time, a couple people were immensely curious as to what was going on with the random shrieker in shower four, but people left the scene after I managed to blurt out, "I'M FINE!", even though that was the furthest thing from the truth.
It took me about half an hour to muster up what little strength I had left to rinse off the remaining Nair, soap up (the soap application felt like what I would imagine a third-degree burn to feel like), rinse, soap up, rinse, and rinse until I was positive that every last molecule of Nair lotion had been removed from my skin. I turned off the water, and the most excruciatingly sharp pain set in in and around my ass/ass cheeks, and I began to cry softly to myself.
So there I was, naked as the day I was born, ass redder than a baboon's hind parts, flesh as raw as it could be (no bleeding), crying, ready to drink my own piss. Once I finally mustered up the courage to wrap a towel around my waist, the fabric hit my skin, and I knew that I was in for the most painful two weeks of my life. Taking shits and wiping my ass would become a time consuming task of monumental proportions, seeing that I would only be able to wad up the toilet paper and gently dab between my cheeks; wiping was out of the question. And as for sitting down on any surface - I don't want you to imagine the pain I had to endure every time I sat in class. Sleeping? A thing of the past. Even though I typically slept on my side, any time I managed to roll over onto my back without thinking, a sharp pain was sent throughout my body, causing me to lie awake in pain for another half hour before the thought of sleep was even a possibility. I think I looked at the bottle that night, right after the shower, noticed the difference in recommended application times, and I vowed to myself to never again apply anything to my body without first reading and heeding every warning on the label.
Oh, and I forgot to mention: For this particular application of Nair, I decided to also give it a shot on my pubes.
The normal pubes.
But hey, at least I didn't have to deal with any ass-pubes after that! Trying to wipe when you've got those can be a real bitch...
TL;DR: Used the Nair for Men just fine, tried out the women's version and burned the shit outta my ass and genitals. ALWAYS. READ. AND HEED. LABEL WARNINGS.
EDIT: I was fine after a month or two. The redness went away after a couple weeks of cortizone applications. You can bet your ass off that I read every damn word on that tube.
WARNING!!!!
Don't Shave That Hair!!!
I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble shitting.
No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my asscheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.
I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.
I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My ass was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.
Little did I know.
I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two asscheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.
Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic shit- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky shit/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.
Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my ass off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering shit/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my ass cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own shit blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."
Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my asscheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.
As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your ass having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.
Friends, DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!
TL; DR, don't fuck about with your ass hair if you don't know what you're doing
- Joined
- Dec 25, 2015
I have no issue reading tranny threads, bad plastic surgery threads, or even 'Cooking With Jack' over breakfast, but @admiral, you just made me almost chuck up my toast and Marmite, ya bastard.
Fucking Kiwi Farms!
Also, Nair-ing your ass is a terrible plan, don't do it. Unless you like chemical burns around your most delicate areas.
But back to the tranny suicide counseller, I suspect he has a lot of sucess stories of people surviving after he's talked to them. Very few things in life can be as bad as wilfully striding around as a burly bloke, dressed in stupid female clothes and clown makeup while getting off on pissing yourself. Comparing your misery to that of the shame and degeneracy of a tranny would make the vast majority of people realise their own lives are nowhere near as bad as they'd previously thought. So while at first I thought a troon being a mental health support worker was an awful idea (who wants to talk to someone who only talks about themselves, especially when suicidal?), now I see the logic behind it all. Psychology is a strange beast, after all. Like troons, really.
Fucking Kiwi Farms!
Also, Nair-ing your ass is a terrible plan, don't do it. Unless you like chemical burns around your most delicate areas.
But back to the tranny suicide counseller, I suspect he has a lot of sucess stories of people surviving after he's talked to them. Very few things in life can be as bad as wilfully striding around as a burly bloke, dressed in stupid female clothes and clown makeup while getting off on pissing yourself. Comparing your misery to that of the shame and degeneracy of a tranny would make the vast majority of people realise their own lives are nowhere near as bad as they'd previously thought. So while at first I thought a troon being a mental health support worker was an awful idea (who wants to talk to someone who only talks about themselves, especially when suicidal?), now I see the logic behind it all. Psychology is a strange beast, after all. Like troons, really.
- Joined
- Sep 15, 2016
Sturgeon isn’t where she is because she’s a beloved, public figure adored by all Scots.
She’s in power because she has managed to put her cronies into all the right places in the party and destroy or drive out her opponents.
Ever heard of the Elba party? It’s a Scottish party led by a guy who used to be in the SNP. He had a decades long career in politics and in Scottish independence.
And then one day a bunch of women associated with Sturgeon accused him of sexual harassment.
He was offered a sweetheart deal by the prosecution, but took it to trial and won.
That’s what happens to Sturgeon’s enemies so you can imagine there aren’t many left.
- Joined
- Jul 4, 2022
For the record that post was in the "transgender circlejerk" sub. Im still not sure if that dude is trolling or not. Leaning towards him just being another insane troon tho.
Indians are not a monolith, there are hundreds if not thousands of individual tribes in the americas.
Having said that, the vast majority are not cool with faggots or people trying to rock the boat when it comes to status quo in ANY way. Even more so before white people, seriously, look up how different native tribes dealt with transgressions within the tribe before they were assimilated into american society. Harsh punishments for relatively minor acts were not uncommon. In some tribes, stealing three times (regardless of what it was) would get you killed. Same with trying to fuck someone elses wife. Again they are not a monolith, but shunning and straight up exiling faggots was more the norm than respecting and giving status for being "stunning and brave", especially in the warrior bands.
You ever notice how its always faggots and degenerates trying to push the narrative that "there have always been trans natives and they have always been a respected part of native culture"? I wonder why that could be
Lmao, it seems like they were subtly jabbing at trannies with the whole "egg" metaphor being used to explain delusion, especially since the specific delusion they used as an example was body integrity disorder (or whatever its called when people wanna cut off a limb)
- Joined
- Sep 15, 2016
(Sigh)
There is actually an entire subreddit for shit like this.
It’s called trans tryouts:
The contents are very predictable. And very 14 year old girl-ish.
Pretty sure she has never watched MASH.
- Joined
- Jan 4, 2020
Militant trans people in mental health makes me want to dive off a cliff. It's such a recipe for disaster and yet here they are, with jobs.
Also "when their back"? No wonder why these people switch pronouns so often, they can't even use real ones properly.
That's RaDAR you heathen.
Also "when their back"? No wonder why these people switch pronouns so often, they can't even use real ones properly.
- Joined
- Jan 18, 2023
I'm not an expert on mental illness, but it sounds to me like Radio's ga-ga.
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2021
Its first choice of a name was Fork. I think it's safe to say this person is crazy (don't stick your dick in it).
- Joined
- Jan 18, 2023
Forking mental.
What is it with these trans and nonbinary identifying females and these names based on inanimate objects?
It's weird, given that the main reason most young women troon out is because they don't want to be objectified.
What is it with these trans and nonbinary identifying females and these names based on inanimate objects?
It's weird, given that the main reason most young women troon out is because they don't want to be objectified.
- Joined
- Nov 18, 2020
Sorry I misgendered you, sir.
Doesn't feel one bit better, does it?
- Joined
- Jun 15, 2017
World War 1.5, I assume, and later Civil Rights propaganda that beatified everyone except those who did join the Communists. The British invader force of 55'000 men was the second largest, after 70'000+ Japs. Many suffragettes had ceased protests and supported the WW1 effort and, having been partially enfranchised in 1917, weren't about to do a 180 and cheer for the (well-deserved) deaths of the men.
- Joined
- Mar 7, 2021
WARNING!!!!
Don't Shave That Hair!!!
I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble shitting.
No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my asscheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.
I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.
I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My ass was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.
Little did I know.
I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two asscheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.
Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic shit- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky shit/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.
Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my ass off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering shit/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my ass cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own shit blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."
Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my asscheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.
As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your ass having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.
Friends, DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!
Don't Shave That Hair!!!
I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble shitting.
No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my asscheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.
I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.
I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My ass was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.
Little did I know.
I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two asscheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.
Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic shit- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky shit/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.
Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my ass off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering shit/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my ass cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own shit blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."
Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my asscheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.
As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your ass having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.
Friends, DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2021
@Fungible penis said:
Edit: Apologies for capeshit stuff, but it's relevant to this quote.
Fun fact: This sperg is apparently one of the things one of the directors spergs about randomly. So of course they put it in the film Matt Damon actually tried taking the advice he gives here and is a firm believer in this wisdom. I don't know if he spergs about it but I like to think he does.
Edit: Apologies for capeshit stuff, but it's relevant to this quote.
Fun fact: This sperg is apparently one of the things one of the directors spergs about randomly. So of course they put it in the film Matt Damon actually tried taking the advice he gives here and is a firm believer in this wisdom. I don't know if he spergs about it but I like to think he does.
- Joined
- Nov 12, 2022
>Jews in Nazi Germany had lower suicide rates that trans do currently
Technically he is not wrong
Am a tigoor
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jan 10, 2023
Nicky looks fine, he's obviously putting in effort with good makeup and real clothes. Looks like a neat and clean home too. Compared to other people here the bar is very low but he looks like a presentable, normal enough person. Would potentially be friends with.
- Joined
- Sep 15, 2016
I can’t even fathom the kind of retardation that would make someone name themselves “Fork”.
Goddamn FORK!
And then she, sorry XE decides to take “Radar” as a name instead.
I’d feel a lot better if it was just an elaborate troll, but xe got waaay to many posts in the otherkin subreddit.
Maybe I should get offline for a while. What are the symptoms of an autism OD?
- Joined
- Nov 4, 2017
Depressing to see someone who's taken themselves this far down a misguided path in life (and in public, no less). This video has "12-year-old-boy acting out" vibes.
Yes, there's something to be said for Nicky.
- Joined
- Sep 15, 2016
As we all know, transphobia and staying in the closet is the primary killer of gender diverse people.
Transitioning is the only thing that helps a sky high suicide rate.
Hmm… Guess “she” must still be in the closet, and totally not be mentally ill!
Troon handmaidens are a consistent source of lulz, and today we have a tolerant and supportive wife who thinks someone might be out to KILL her troon partner!
Goddamn Trump supporters sneaking in and cutting brake lines and shit!
This is of course a reasonable and sane assumption, her fellow troons and handmaidens assure her!
“ATTEMPTED MURDER!”
Fellow Kiwis, I need y’alls alibi for last night!
Transitioning is the only thing that helps a sky high suicide rate.
Hmm… Guess “she” must still be in the closet, and totally not be mentally ill!
Troon handmaidens are a consistent source of lulz, and today we have a tolerant and supportive wife who thinks someone might be out to KILL her troon partner!
Goddamn Trump supporters sneaking in and cutting brake lines and shit!
This is of course a reasonable and sane assumption, her fellow troons and handmaidens assure her!
“ATTEMPTED MURDER!”
Fellow Kiwis, I need y’alls alibi for last night!
- Joined
- Apr 14, 2021
Quite likely none of the places in his photos is his legit home, because Nicky is a flight attendant. Flight people get to see & stay in all kinds of nice places.
Any neat & tidy home in any trans-posted selfie, is a home cleaned & maintained by someone other than the trans person, unless the trans has some kind of OCD behavior going on, but that's rare. Or it's a home in which the trans does not live.
Also, an aside. I want to start calling all trans "folx" Meemales. They're the most egotistical, narcissistic, immature human beings on Earth. Everything is about them. All their social media is "me, me, me, me, MEEEEEE." MEEEEEEmales.
(Life Protip: When you see every paragraph that starts with the word "I," you know you're dealing with a narcissist. The more "me" and "I" words in the writing, the more narcissistic the human.)