…what “month” it is.
…what “month” it is.
I don’t often visit Target stores because they so seldom have anything I want, and if they do, it’s at a premium price. Guess I won’t be going there anytime soon anyway, what with this bullshit going on:
Target will be selling breast binders and packing underwear as part of its latest clothing collection just ahead of “Pride month” in June.
The retailer is known for celebrating June in a splashy, rainbow-colored way. It has been criticized for offering a pride collection for kids, specifically babies, for years. Now the company is catering to the trans community by promoting specialty garments specifically made for them.
According to Bustle, Target partnered with TomboyX and Humankind for the collection, which are both “queer owned, female-founded brands.” Merchandise will include the expected rainbow-colored messaging that’s become commonplace for these collections. It will also have some new items that a mainstream retailer like Target hasn’t sold before.
In the adult collection, a poem that includes the line, “For the queer lovers and everyone in between, for the rebels that fight to forever be seen,” is featured on tote bags, shirts, and beach towels.
There are also pride flag cat toys, including a giraffe designed in lesbian flag colors and stuffed teacup with rainbow tea, and three tea bags with the lesbian, transgender, and bisexual pride flags.
Call me whatever-phobic, but I just can’t see that any of that merchandise will be suited to me.
Idiots, or evil? I report, you decide.
As though we haven’t had enough of our beloved English language (words like “gay”) being appropriated (and not in a good way) by the forces of Communism, Greens and the LGBTOSTFU movement* (some overlap; quite a lot, actually), now we have to deal with the degeneration of the word “grooming” — an excellent description of what we do to make our appearance pleasing to the eye, and ditto to dogs, horses and such. Now we have to use the word to describe the disgusting, perverted way in which pedophiles and the Education Establishment (also, some overlap) set about corrupting young people so that these sick individuals can play out their depraved sexual fantasies on children’s bodies.
It’s only been a couple of days since I was at the range, and already I can feel my trigger-finger twitching.
My suggestion: make child molestation a capital offense, and shoot / hang / [your suggestion here] these bastards whenever they’re caught.
And people in league with child molesters (the “groomers”) should face life sentences in prison, without parole.
We’d be doing it For The Children©, literally.
Argue the point with me, I dare you.
Looks like the LGBTOSTFU crowd has managed to get Chick-fil-A to close its first and only restaurant in Britishland.
As I pointed out to Mr. Free Market, The Englishman and Mrs. Sor in my email to them (entitled Homos 1, Good Guys 0), all this means is that the Brits (and especially the Sorensons, who live in Reading) will be denied probably the world’s best fried chicken. Because, according to the freaks & loonies, the chain does eeevil and nasty stuff:
Reading Pride charged that the fast food chain’s charitable foundation “still supports questionable charities.” In particular, the LGBT activist group faulted the WinShape Foundation for donating $1.6 million to the Fellowship of Christian Athletes and $150,000 to the Salvation Army in 2017.
Reading Pride quoted the Fellowship of Christian Athletes’ statement of faith: “We believe God’s design for sexual intimacy is to be expressed only within the context of marriage. God instituted marriage between one man and one woman as the foundation of the family and the basic structure of human society. For this reason, we believe that marriage is exclusively the union of one man and one woman.”
As everyone knows, I am no Christian. Nevertheless, I think I’ll go and get some nuggets — probably a double order, to make up for their losses in the UK — at the Chick-fil-A up the road, just in sympathy.
And then I’ll be off to the range. Do thou the same, O My Readers.