I’ll bite. I’m a professor in a field of hard science that you likely couldn’t pronounce, let alone comprehend. I have two children and am happily married.
I find it highly ironic that you right wing morons complain about “safe space kids” when the entire election was about YOUR inability to deal with change and your desperate need to retreat to the (fictional) cultural safe space of the mid-to-late 20th century, when you could call dark people and homosexual people whatever the hell you wanted without any fear of consequence.
All the liberal folk I know (me included) embrace change. We look without fear into the future. We acknowledge the basic humanity of the rest of the world. We acknowledge science (yes, even climate science and EVILution.)
Enjoy this while you can, sport. Reactionaries have won this round, but you are dying out. In a couple of election cycles, this will be a blip in the history books.
I don’t need a safe space. I’m looking forward to watching people like you crawl back to yours.
No. Not much on the internet is more boring than someone who thinks they are being much more clever than they actually are. No use for that these days.
I find him amusing. Let me see. Prep school=good but higher education=bad. Sounds like somebody couldn’t get into the college of his choice despite Mommy and Daddy’s presumed wealth and influence.
I’m just upset because nobody told me i was supposed to major in liberal arts or womyn’s studies. Whatever will I do with my degree in chemistry? I guess I’ll just have to keep relying on my medical degree to keep me from having to work at the Waffle House.
I think I get it now! I thought you were a honey-man, but now I understand that you’re a maple-syrup guy. It can be easy to confuse the two.
It’s okay. Your predilections are okay. Your fantasies are okay. It’s all okay. Fantasies don’t hurt anyone. And maybe one day you’ll even be able to live them out with a consensual partner.
No Dopers will judge you. None will judge you for dreaming of maple syrup gently oozing out of a majestic tree overhead, only to drizzle onto a towering, courageous Mountie who is snoozing in its shade. No one will judge you for imagining the sticky-sweet touch of this paragon of Canadian manliness as he strokes your cheek, his hands powerful but oh so tender. Us Dopers are a tolerant bunch, and we wouldn’t dare judge anyone for their consensual fantasies of burly, syrup-covered Canadians.
You be you. We won’t judge. We will just hope that, someday, you’ll meet that Mountie that’s out there, just for you, who’d be happy to pour maple syrup over his hirstute body for your pleasure.