November 25, 2022
The yimbys are freaking out.
Because I, “an “actual Nazi,” just might be coming back to Twitter.
I, a like literal transit succubus, ruined Haybag’s Trainsgiving.
We all remember that time I “sexually harassed” crashfugue by pointing out how few women exist in yimby: that’s like “harassment😤” and it’s like “sexual🍼” in nature😫.
Or when I “sexually harassed” Nickel A. Murray for repeating her own truth that she had inherited property while she falsely accused her opponents of being trust fund kids: that’s like “harassment😤” on my part and it’s like “sexual🍼” in nature😫.
Because dishonest heir landlords are peeples too, amirite, Svenjamin?
Like, I am pretty awful.
I’m a “bigot in general:”
I mean with my unsubstantiated “history of overt racism, homophobia [and] xenophobia,” I’m like capable of anything, certainly murder ~*and*~ mayhem.
Like this, right here, is severe, like super super severe, sexual harassment👇:
Like, I even went after the extraordinarily marginalized population of global Italians, focusing on disgraced Andrew Cuomo in particular. That’s like genocide.
And I committed violent transphobia when I softblocked Open New York member Émilia Decaudin.
Émilia “suck my girldick” Decaudin refers to me as “one of the most abusive people” she has ever encountered on Twitter: not LibsofTikTok, nope, just lil ol me.
So, if my account does become unbanned on Twitter, and all my content becomes once again visible, the yimbys will be proven right, won’t they?
All those Aaron Carr screenshots will come to light, won’t they?
The luminol will show all the blood stains, won’t it?
Or maybe, just maybe, having all my words and tweets and pics back in the public realm might instead prove how dishonest the yimby movement has been.
And that’s what’s really freaking out the yimbys: the truth.
Because if I really was such a dangerous murderer, wouldn’t my entire blog reflect that savagery and brutality?
Where’s all the hate speech here?
I just expose the lies and hypocrisy of yimbys.
That isn’t an act of “hate:” it’s criticism.
Criticism isn’t hate.
Criticism isn’t violence, criticism isn’t death, criticism isn’t a crime against any person: it’s a critique.
And just because you yimbys cannot stand any criticism, or the inconvenience of screamingly loud truth about yourselves, doesn’t mean any of you have been violated or harmed: you’ve merely been observed and reported on.
So, ah, “buckle up,” tender avocados, because your worst nightmare never died in the first place.
I’ve always been here and I never went away.
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