Very interesting viewing from Monsieur Tuckereux....
https://youtu.be/Ibq3ld087Y4
He made some waves very recently with a documentary about masculinity*, he's a character mainstream hip middle class white kids on the up and up love to hate, an easy target, says transgenderism might not be perfect. Interestingly a gay guy tweeted Tucker's masculinity documentary was gayer than the Tweeter was, and he cited his husband and upcoming book about gayness as evidence of his own gayness.
Like Russians who cannot be dissuaded of how great Stalin made their country no matter what you tell them, let me tell you, sunbathing naked, if you can do it without trespassing against others (I'm doing it right now), is very good for the skin, vitamin d from the sun. My father would even lie for long spells in aforementioned fields used by the US and Australian air forces during world war two, and sun his mouth by leaving it open. I saw him doing this once or twice without wanting to talk to him and another teenage years buddy also did and mentioned it to you (moi actually). This chap actually ended up living in the house immediately behind the (only) house my father purchased, which I sold around last Xmas for $630k, AUD. This chap ended up living there relatively briefly in his early 20s I believe as he'd moved in with his girlfriend who was already living there. By this point I had lost touch with him but we were in the same friendship circle as FDR, Winston Churchill and Goebbels, all very tight as teenagers. In fact, I was playing table tennis one day with Goebbels in the garage where aforementioned father, his nudey sunbathing daughter and our brother Stalin all chose to take their own lives, someplace else (they got carried out dead, glory to the paramedics and their, at times, ridiculous jobs).
Well aforementioned chaps, my teenage years' buddies and my brother Stalin, eight years older, were all avid table tennis players and would play very competitive matches and really ascend into Heaven, all of us, during these magical and competitive moments of table tennis. It was very much a thing say around the early 1990s. Happier days. Well Goebbels and I were playing one day just the two of us, perhaps Stalin not around, and we heard a faraway bang and then the neon light above as flashed and went dead. It was reasonable to assume a car had hit an above ground power line and, in fact, it was said chap who, years later moved into the property not more than two yards or three from where I was standing at the far end of the garage, furthest from the street.
This chap had in fact cruised through the massive and pre planned roundabout connecting Carlisle and Jersey roads, at a cool 100 miles an hour, give or take, lost control and somehow managed to hold on with his considerable strength, to the steering wheel. Come to think of it, there was another chap our age, apart from this fellow, who was tight with our clique, apart from the aforementioned FDR, Churchill and Goebbels (and Hendrix). However the speeding Mazda 626 guy who ended up moving into the house behind and the flyover guy who literally flew me over said garage and property (while my mother Queen Victoria was walking to the garage, in fact), in a Cessna, this flyover chap and Mazda 626 guy didn't gel with my brother Stalin so he never appeared much when they were around, however he was fond of the others. Although Churchill was wary of him after he viciously punched his face during yet another fun game of blind man's bluff in the swimming pool. We had goggles blacked out and you'd have to wear them and touch someone, they'd be sledging you and laughing at you. Apart from this sock, my brother Stalin never hit any of my friends however I had received punches in the face like this probably five times a year on average from around 9 to 16. I note a swimming pool has no shore, unlike a lake, just a gutter really or edge.
Well Goebbels and I walked down to the roundabout and there was the crumpled Mazda 626 I had ridden in the trunk, doing donuts, immersed in white English redneckism. Like an unwoke disease. Before I discovered what american pie was for (I came across it as a sixteen year old in Madrid, Spain, but didn't know what to do with it in those days, too mysterious).
Essay on transgender rights and medical malpractice over. Ditto untreated schizophrenia amongst teachers in academia and practicing doctors. These are medical malpractice/child abuse issues. Lawmakers that do not protect children are legally liable to be sued. If mandatory drug testing of academics and doctors could be legalized, this problem would be solved: poof, disappeared.
Holler to Monsieur Tuckereax and cue the entertaining music:
https://youtu.be/Xz8Fv9HY7Ro
* A pivotal issue is estrogen in plastics. Consuming plastics orally through food and water is spiking estrogen in men, it's a science thing not a culture thing. While I don't work in any emergency response field neither served in the military neither a surgeon, my respect for these professions is increasing yearly, politics and race etc aside. I don't think they're experiencing any gender issues or masculinity issues apart from too much estrogen from plastic. These people are the backbone of society along with nurses. I do not think it should be legal for a surgeon or doctor to facilitate gender transformation to a minor (under 18 or 21). Mandatory drug testing for heavy vehicle drivers is already a thing (safety issue). Since druggy academics are misleading kids, they should be subject to the same rules, and media. Too much acid and pot, makes people crazy.
I suppose after coming out of relationship with these chaps, Churchill, FDR, Stalin, Goebbels (Hendrix and I are still on talking terms but his chronic alcoholism and past use of acid a hindrance). My brother passed away and his violence and abuse towards me from approx. 1986-1992 left me very wary of him. FDR I dissed as an incurable northern European idiot redneck. Churchill dissed me as some kind of incurable Jewish disease. Goebbels is so incredibly happy with his best two 'mates', one male lives next door, the other female, his spouse, I'm not sure. I would wonder what my feelings were about them. Did I love them? As they were my comrades for some fun times during teenage years that made life fun and pleasant at times? I'm not like an actor that can cry at will for an audience or camera, so skilled at managing and recognizing my own emotions. I refer you to Hamlet's wonderment at the mousetrap players, how they could turn on the act. What I can tell you is I was really surprised one time to be hanging out with the girls at a catholic elementary school in the Granville area of Sydney (very middle eastern neighborhood). I was there with my two kids aged around 3 and a half and one and a half. I don't think the ladies minded having me around. One of them became so comfortable she mentioned having her period and saying it to the other ladies like I wasn't even there. I suppose this is how ladies might talk amongst themselves when men aren't around. That was very unusual. I was a little bit uncomfortable but only barely, after all, riding around in aforementioned Mazda 626 with the constant English redneck banter was more uncomfortable for me! I guess the only conclusion to draw is my soul and being is somehow pegged to this body that somehow grows and walks like a vegetable. I'm not sure what my relationship with it is, exactly. We seem to share a memory store in the brain however I'm certain my soul is more than my body and what it sees. I certainly feel like my soul is a real thing and the main thing!
https://youtu.be/37inWx3La4k
Her dark red hair, the white soft skin... Just making some coffee on the Red Herring.... Laid back.... Clocking on 1720, super late start a jour de hui
https://youtu.be/ashTaoGrR2o
Moments later, listening to more Blink 182 with the Bluetooth speaker on the boat. I have sewn a missing clip back onto the sail bag that protects the mainsail on the boom most of the time when it's not in use (from rain and sun, etc). There were four clips and the last one nearest the stern was missing. Just listening to the doors absolutely live and blink 182. If it was gay or trans I couldn't tell you, I don't really worry about being gay or trans. I realize there are many very manly, butch acting gay men that will always act more manly and butch than me, I try not to worry about it except sometimes I talk like a little kid or get too excited, don't act manly and butch. Blink 182 has a new song out, heard it for the first time, during fixing sailing bag (sewing). After operating the 182 service from narrabeen to warriewood (my job), after learning how to sail:
It's called 'feeling this'. I was careful to use a thimble on my index finger while sewing as the sail bag fabric was very thick to sew. Wouldn't want to stick a needle in my finger, feeling that. I like sewing but I never go out of my way to do it! Only when it's really needed**. Have been doing that since like 9 years old! A stitch in time saves 9!
https://youtu.be/4kMZ23T9VHE
Maybe I'll tell y'all about my sausage dog Bart Thomas Gumby McCallum and my teenage sweetheart when I was 15.... We'll see....
Basically we sat in my backyard one time and she noticed Bart Thomas Gumby McCallum was scared. My brother Joseph Stalin had terrorized it no doubt. We did the same in her backyard and her guinea pig was super happy. Her parents seemed super nice and her mother even put out like an American vibe or something. Financially they were doing okay, they actually had jobs and were getting ahead, maybe her mom only worked part time but she looked like a winner not a druggy bum. There were quite a few very sweet girls in the neighborhood and she was top of my list. I didn't know how to do anything with her physically apart from tongue kiss and she thought it was inappropriate everytime we saw each other to do that like at school so we just stopped hanging out together. She sure was nice. It's wasn't easy being Joseph Stalin's eight years younger punching bag brother. We had a gay gothic guy at that school and his buddy Heather was pregnant (to someone else obviously, at age 16!). I was only 15 coz younger than everyone else. Academically this school was super poor. There were Arab guys in my role call bragging about screwing ugly dumb low educated white trash girls against the wall. I kissed a 14 year old Palestinian Arab girl at a school dance when I was 15. That was the first girl I kissed. Then I dumped her in role call the next day. I felt some Croatian girl's boob (on my water bed before I gifted it to FDR) and was freaked out coz I felt a hair. I was kind of not that into girls at 15/16/17. I caught up with that beautiful looking Croatian girl with (my) Russian mother in law like five years ago now and she was super ugly. Time had not been kind to her, she wanted another kid (coz tragically her beloved son had died in a motorcycle accident) and seemed perfectly happy to make one with me but I passed. Was nice seeing her again though. That's why she wanted to see me again. Looking back my mother in law has always been angling to get her daughter back to eastern Europe with her even encouraging her to go off with some other guy. I think she's just another dumbass Russian that needs a strong leader organizing they shit. That's what Russians love, being bossed around by the czar or sardine.
My wife's first job in Australia was a stone's throw from that girl's guinea pig backyard. There was even an American guy at her workplace (waiters at a club restaurant for white trash). That girl ended up happily marrying one of our classmates and I think they're very happy. Goebbels still plays soccer with him (the husband). He got with that girl before I did and before the husband who came after me. I told him I wasn't happy he was with her coz I had a crush on her and he dumped her just for me he made it seem. I think he told her about it. He certainly acted like a good buddy.
Latest Tucker very high on histrionic personality issues:
https://youtu.be/q-nMlMU48wI
Unwatchable high school he said she said effeminate histrionic gossip. On average Tucker's diet is 15-20% histrionic personality issues. I refer to this as silly pants-ism. I cross the road when this comes walking at me.
Bottom line if Tucker changes sex I'd still dance with her at her wedding or whatever but no kisses, maybe just a courtesy peck on the cheek or an ass-slap in front of the dead horse or whatever (groomy thing, another transgender or potato or whatever).
Anyway just watch Austin Powers and Mini Me fight for a while then culler [Benji sic®] in for a while before naptime, dismissed.
https://youtu.be/vj8f5amIQwY
** Shoot rereading this I remember watching a nurse sewing my wife's reproductive organ a few hours after she'd delivered a natural birth which I was present for (both the birth and the sewing). It's a very dramatic moment. Equally dramatic although less gruesome was seeing the unbloodied opening the surgeons had made for her womb as I walked into the operating surgery when she birthed our first kid by caesarian. I'd just been messaging my Russian buddy Tchaikovsky (not his real name), feeling the drama of the moment. I totally get what my brother Stalin meant when he told me Putin was a dickhead, now I see him bombing hospitals and civilians, I kind of understand.
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