I’m keeping an eye on Elizabeth Smart. I think that would be smart. I suspect that she is the latest model of Fembot—broken and then put back together as a perfect machine. Would you trust your kids to Elizabeth Smart? I wouldn’t. Asking Elizabeth Smart to teach kids how to avoid sexual predators is like asking Squeaky Fromme to give them marksmanship lessons: http://www.wowktv.com/story/26739022/elizabeth-smart-world-renowned-child-advocate-joins-modern-day-abolitionists-to-fight-child-sex-slavery
I’m thinking of going to the above described event tonight just to see what the ladies are wearing as they mount their next victim-as-leader crusade. I wonder how many plastic surgeons have their work represented in this cult of “beauty” pimped by Feminists. When did growing old become a crime?
Of course sex slavery is bad and little blonde girls are good, right? Not everything is as it seems and some crimes are performed in plain sight.
Was Brigitte Bardot another? Just seeing the pain in her eyes as she holds that fur trapper’s trap tells me that she is. (I don’t condemn the practice entirely but would prefer a more humane method.) If I link the photo, the photo bearer may object. Google her. Just reading the writing of the infamous Simone de Beauvoir on the subject, confirms my suspicions: http://bookzz.org/book/845313/0a2cf3
Here is a brave first person account of a Fembot I found on the internet. This isn’t the only one, it just particularly resonates with me (I would love to meet her): http://www.reflectionsinthenight.com/walpurgisnacht_baby.htm
Blonde Fembots, all of them, albeit those aren’t the only brands available, just the “Made in the U.S.A.” brand. The “Made in Juárez”, Mexico brand has a different market. There are many others. I wonder how long it will take before the “Made in the U.S.A.” brand of Fembot elicits more rage than trust. Neither emotion however applies. Watch your feelings when you listen to The Mighty Wurlitzer. The most effective agents are unwitting of their purpose and make small-time crooks like Anita Sarkeesian look like saints.
“How do you know which product to buy?” my mother asks me plaintively, as usual looking for youth and beauty advice, desperately trying to play the victim from her new, larger, finer home.
Perhaps I should stop dying my hair. I would and I have permission to stop, but, it helps me to feel “pretty” and that is important in terms of my duties even if arousing envy has become foolhardy in my immediate environs. I have a neighbor who epitomizes the “hot/crazy” of this video who has decided that I am a threat. She is like a peacock—beautiful to look at as she primps and poses but with a screech that takes my breath away, and formidable talons.
Pages on the internet come and go. Those which are allowed to survive are either those most easily discredited to a vapid and gullible public or are allowed to exist as a warning to anyone thinking of defecting or spilling unauthorized secrets.
For the record, I wouldn’t trust me with your kids either. I am not a role model, never mind the education, poise, sparkly hair, etc. I am yet another broken doll all put back together except this time the man who put me back together is neither a narcissist, megalomaniac, or one who desires to live forever. I owe him everything. I am glad to live long enough to know him.
My writing however is entirely my own assuming that which is inside me is now finally me—a work in progress.