Original Aunty Donna Don’t Talk To Me Until I’ve Had My Morning Brown Shirt

 There is nothing sincere or real about any of this. It is, as far as I can grasp it, a message of hatred towards women in the Original Aunty Donna Don’t Talk To Me Until I’ve Had My Morning Brown Shirt moreover I love this way that he mockingly, jeeringly, satirically, disparagingly apes them in his absurdly heavy-handed way. This is in no way anything like a person who “identifies” as a woman. This is a man who identifies as someone doing what has begun to be called “woman face”. It is a profoundly offensive send-up of actual women. Ok, some time later, someone made a comment and I responded with this metaphorical analogy, seems a shame to bury it in a comment, so here it is again: Imagine if a mega Church in a really religious area decided to welcome people with incontinence, so they produced a single beautifully engraved golden invitation for one really incontinent guy that showed Jesus with a large turd smeared on his head, urine dripping down his cheeks. And not for just any guy, but a guy with an insane predilection for publicizing anything and everything that comes his way AND they give the guy $50,000 as a “gift” to commemorate one year of shi****g on everything beautiful all around the town, something he feels is an important part of his incontinence, because he identifies as an incontinent person who sh**s on things, particularly things that other people think are special, sacred, beautiful, and valuable.

Original Aunty Donna Don't Talk To Me Until I've Had My Morning Brown Shirt

Then the Original Aunty Donna Don’t Talk To Me Until I’ve Had My Morning Brown Shirt moreover I love this senior public relations and marketing person for the mega church gives an interview, in a room decorated with art produced by her incontinent eighteen-month-old, a not-all-that-surprising background for an interview with a woman who has publicly stated that diapers restrict a child’s ability to poop on all the things she wants to poop on, so her daughter won’t ever wear them, in which she crows about how she’s “a religious person” and “the first woman to do PR and marketing for a mega Church”, and says that for her, the most important thing, her “super mandate” was to be “inclusive” and veer strongly away from the church’s base of “really pathetic losers” and “broke-ass victims God shouldn’t even bother with” and because she needs to “see herself in the work”, the obvious need for the church was to evolve and bring in “people who sh** on things, like her daughter and three of her adult friends, particularly things of value that other people hold sacred” and then she smiles this disturbingly toothy grin and makes weird movements with her fingers and her hands as she turns red with an odd excitement like she’s been waiting to trash the foundational members of the mega church since she got the job.

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