What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little oppressor? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my Gender Studies class, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on oppressive tumblr users, and I have over 300 confirmed labels. I am trained in internet warfare and I’m the top caller out in the entire Portland anarchist collective. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this site, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, douchecanoe. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of queers across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, fucktruck. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your blog. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can call you out in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with bullet points. Not only am I extensively trained in theory and criticism, but I have access to the entire arsenal of my college’s zine library and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little cissy. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little homonormative comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit femme realness all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.