The Tranny Twisty Titty Twitter Awards

A small sample of Tweets
gathered one evening from Twitter, using "Tranny" as the search word.

I perform this search now and then, or when I feel like getting pissed off. If I want to see some compassion, I'll search "Transgender." If I wanna hook up wit a real hooka, I'll search "Shemale" and if I need a classy chick with a dick to be my secret lady on the street/freak ass ho in the bed, I'll search "Transsexual."
None of these posts are directed at me, and although I have a Twitter account, I've never typed a Tweet.

The Tranny Twisty Titty Awards are the first of their kind. The awards will be hand delivered to the recip-tit by one of our team of Titty Twisting Tranny Sisters in your area.

 

JADAis_AMAZING Jada Hill

Omg omg she a tranny she a tranny!

3 minutes ago

I love the enthusiasm! Your excitement alone gets you one Twisty Tit! Congratulations to the amazing one!

TH30D0R4 Theodora Pitts

You. Look. Like. A. Tranny.

1 hour ago

Hard. Fucking. Core. Man.
So. We have this look. We know. It's the best we can do with what we've been born into.
You only get one Twisty Tit because the post, though dramatic in punctuation, and succinctly delivered, lacks sufficient substance to be provocative in any direct sense.

SmittyForMe Bizzy Bee

My homeboy was flirting with a tranny last night lmao

1 hour ago

And when your homeboy admits his attraction will your laughter turn to disgust or will he still be your friend? Two Twisty Tits for dissing your homie. Homie.

RoySwaggOn JustWannaBeLoved 

@IAmBatman_1919 it must be a tranny. Lmao!!

1 hour ago

Just Wanna Be Loved? Three Twisty Tits for your oblivious hypocrisy.

Konstantine Konstantine

My father will not accept USE GOOGLE instead of asking me about tranny weirdos.

What? You know something? And ya won't tell your dad? Honorary Twisty Tits for the kid with the bad attitude and for not using Google properly herself. Quit watching Tranny Porn, kid.

dretotheRESCUE Johnny Lovely♠

Yeah , why wouldent it be ? RT @FuneralMadera: Is it okay for a guy to fight a tranny ?

1 hour ago

Lovely, Johnny. It's only okay if she throws the first punch but I doubt she'll fight. You know all us trannies are packin. She cap yo ass first.

HoNeYBoO823 [;Alexis;]

Sooo if a a guy becomes a 'tranny' which restroom wud he use?

2 hours ago
 
Ok, I know the word "tranny" means a guy turned girl to some people, still. And yea, I know the word is offensive to many transgender people but please, educate yourselves or maybe apply some fucking common sense. HoneyBoo, SHE would use the ladies room if she didn't want to get beat the hell up in the men's room. One honorary Twisty Tit for you, Boo, because this is a real issue being fought in the courts, not because you're a dumbass.

FRESHnTheCity Christian

Lmao at the tranny in starret city.....

2 hours ago

Christian? Dumbass. Five Twisty Tits for spiritual hypocrisy ... I mean if that's your name, well okay, my bad an' all. But if a sistah gives you the award, you probably deserved it anyway.

Pandrezzz Gomez

Madonna looks like a tranny with her muscular figure.

2 hours ago 

Madonna is not on our team but I hereby grant her the authority to administer as many Twisty Tits as she feels appropriate. If I were you, I'd be afraid.

DinoAllie Allison Ann

@johnnyboyxo looks so good, I've wondered if she wasn't born a woman and just says she's a tranny.

2 hours ago 

WooHoo! Ten Twisty Tits for you, doll baby! You know it's totally hot to be a tranny. Dang! If only you could have been born this way!

emily_donahue20 Emily Donahue

tranny in the mall...

2 hours ago 

You get one Twisty Tit, as do the rest of the myriad of people tweeting Tranny Sightings, because even though these posts are boring to see, WE are not.

uKENgetnmyJEANz kenzie jean.

Woah.. I didnt know chaz bono was a tranny #mindblown

3 hours ago 

Hmm, I don't think your jeans would fit me but thanks, girlfriend! Yea, Dang! How about that shit about that kid of those pop music and tv stars on Opera and Dancing with the stars and their own shows n stuff! Pretty cool.
I award you Ten Twisty Tits for the open invitation suggested in your moniker. You'll love it!

Tweets: Twits and Treasures

It's been a while since I've checked on how the Twitters tweet about trans people. After immersing myself in Twitter-space for one month, reading every single tweet I could find regarding the trans community, I grew depressed and had to stop. It was clear that many more than a few of the Twitter demographic were transphobic. Harsh. Demeaning. Hateful. Not surprisingly, many of those were undereducated.

Here's a couple from tonight.

Twit:

IKeepCHASIN Just Do It

If Your A #Tranny // #Transvetite Kill YourSelf You Need Jesus

 

Treasure:

DanJohnston92 Dan Johnston

soooooo much respect for the transexual people on #MyTranssexualSummer !! x

It's Curved and Bent but Beautiful

I get to do some pretty cool stuff sometimes.
Starting from very rough cut, thick and twisted, beginning the first stage of rot, with burrows of bugs and yes, I cut through a big bug, chunks of wood, here's this slick table designed by Harley Ashbaugh.

It's made from spalted Red Gum and is about four and a half feet long and and twenty inches wide.

The most difficult part of this project was making the hub that connects the legs. Because the wood was so soft, I laminated a piece of Maple in the center to accept dowels or screws. It is covered by the segments of radiused molding. Making the 2 inch thick disk was easy but how do you make compound angled dados in the edge of a disk?

 The hub is located off center of the legs, which both taper and splay. Even the radius molding had to be tapered to match the legs.

I started out with a jig that produced a straight and square dado just big enough to fit the smallest part of the leg.

See that white-ish piece of 1/2" plywood between the fence and the brown fiberboard jig? That lets me create a cut a half inch bigger than the dado blades without moving the fence. Make a cut, insert the spacer and make the rest of the cut. I used this same trick to to taper the sides of the dado, except this time, I used a small strip as a spacer. I placed the strip at the back of the jig to taper one side and at the front of the jig to taper the other side. (Prior to this, I added a spacer to the bottom of the jig at the back and raised the blades accordingly to create the inside taper) Each dado was completely formed before rotating the hub for the next one by using this technique with spacers.

 

The legs were pretty easy to form. That is,easy after making the jigs. They are a bent-lamination of radiused strips. The 3-1/4" wide strips were formed by placing them in a jig which has a curved bottom. When the jig is fed through the planer, the pinch rollers hold the strip and all down, forcing it to curve to the radius of the jig. The ones I made produce strips about four feet long with a 5/8" end thickness and 1/8" center thickness. If you try this, don't forget that the rollers want to pull the strip off the jig and the knives want to throw it at you. Put sides and a front and back on the jig and raise the bed no more than an eighth inch at a time. After the "lams" were milled, they were glued together and clamped to a bending form, then the sides were cut to shape with the band saw. 

The little dovetails at the top and bottom of the legs are made of Cherry and serve to reinforce the lamination. Simple to do but heartbreaking if you mess up.
I put a brand new 1/2" dovetail bit in my favorite router and made a tray out of 1/4" plywood and some 3/4 x 3/4 strips. The base of the router fits snugly between the sides of the tray, only allowing the router to move in a straight line. The front and back of the tray limit the length of the cut. Because the legs are not square in section (they taper toward the center of the table) and there are two sizes, I opted not to make this a self-indexing jig. I just marked where I wanted the dovetail and screwed the jig to the bottom.

 The legs and top are attached with dowels

 
Spalt it yourself!

The toil of the many goes to the fortunate few

~ Thievery Corporation

It's funny how, when I was much younger,
I didn't pay much attention to people like MLK. I guess it was just someone else's problem. Not that I didn't care, I just didn't REALLY have the empathy... and it was someone else's problem. I know. I said that twice. Not MY problem.

I thought Ralph Nader was "a fruit" because everyone said he was. Whatever, this was politics, and there was nothing I could do about it. Politics was a subject that I didn't want anything to do with. Besides, there was nothing I could do about it.

There have always been our heroes for justice and we have all witnessed the torturous and slow struggle for it. They fight for our rights and we "wish" we could help. We know there's not much, if anything we can do. And, really, it's not our fault. We didn't do it.

It really isn't our fault; we have been conditioned to feel this way. I'd rather chill with a cocktail and a puff or two while I unwind from my day and psych up for the next one than even THINK about all the crap that I have no control over.

My perspective changed.
Discrimination impacted my life and I found out what it's like to be judged and dismissed in a moment's glance. I now empathise with all those whose natural human rights are compromised and denied. 
I woke up. The conditioning has been broken. I have my own  mind.
Recently I realised that almost everyone's rights have been compromised. Compromised by law! Laws imposed by those with the most money. Yea, we all know that's the way it is, the way it was and the way it's going to be. "Same as it ever was." ~ Talking Heads

I can't do "that's how it's going to be" any more. Now there is a real chance to DO something about how we've been screwed while the screwers, that one percent, held us down.

The Occupy movement is the fastest growing protest in our history, so I've been told, and rightly so. This movement is not for some minority and not for "someone that doesn't matter." It's not for someone else. It isn't someone else's problem.

It's yours and mine, and all of us under control by governments tweaked to favor the super rich. This is government controlled by the wealthy few, who, even though they're astronomically wealthy, enact laws that perpetuate our poorness and make them even richer. They provide loopholes in "the system." They can get away with it and you can't. You'll go to jail.

They've been gambling with OUR hard earned money while we struggle to survive. And it's Heads they win, tails you lose! You, the 99%.

It's so wrong yet so accepted! We see, we know how the system works and we accept it because there's nothing we can do about it.

But We CAN do something because RIGHT NOW, We The People are starting to stand up for ourselves. We have the numbers, don't we?
We are The 99%.

Please support your local Occupy group by joining us on our streets.
Let's end legalised theft by the corporations. Bring back government FOR the people BY the people. Get Money Out of Politics.

Thank you, my name is Makayla Schaller and not only do I endorse 
what I said but I said what I said. And this particular line of fine print
does not warn you of a possible danger, restrict your rights nor warn 
you that this is going to be a hell of a lot more expensive than you 
thought it would be, as do the contracts you have to sign. ;o)

Occupy

I'm mad about the way things are for us as a nation. Pissed off that it's "He who has the gold makes the rules" when it should be "Do unto others as you'd have done to you."

Sure I'm mad about the greed but I'm really bent about the machine the rich people run (where they virtually buy laws to benefit themselves) and I'm sick of one particular tactic that's used against us. Deception. It is okay to trick someone out of their money...IF you are a corporation. It is perfectly legal for them to decieve us by way of diversion and confusion. They prey on the uneducated, the young and inexperienced, the old and failing, the apathetic, and in general, the poor.

"The large print giveth and the small print taketh away." ~ Tom Waits.

One has to be sharp and on their toes to read the fine print and understand it. And we need speed-hearing to get the disclaimers offered up after some commercials.  Pretty much every legally binding document we sign contains information in the small print that would persuade us in some degree NOT to sign. This information is being as close to hidden as it can legally be and will usually contain words that the many don't understand. But yea, when you sign it, you declare that you do understand, so it's all "legal."

It's legal because the super rich want it that way and it's legal only for them because they own the corporations for which the (their) laws were written. There are laws, of course, that forbid any outright deception and those are written for us; the majority; the pawns ... the conditioned. We now expect the fine print to be bad news, we expect to have our interest rate to increase, sometimes without notice and we're all used to "hidden" charges now. We expect to be ripped off. We expect that the people responsible for atrocities like oil spills and economy crashes will escape unscathed and with their money because, well, they have most of it and just trade it amongst themselves. Call me cynical. I call me conditioned.

Well, I may be conditioned but I'm pissed and now is the time for us to be heard. Occupy Savannah begins tomorrow.

Ironica

I love my job!

In all seriousness I do.
 It's not been quite a month since I was granted the opportunity to resume my career as a cabinet maker. My employer is very thoughtful and good to me - at the same time I know I have a lot to offer, so, fair trade until you add in the trans thing. I am grateful.

Tomorrow, I am to interview a potential shop mate. The boss (it feels more partnerish) says "Your word is law." I take this very seriously and hate/love to think that the potential hire is coming from a shop that's closing - one of the shops that rejected me for employment. I'm so glad they did!

One of the questions I intend to ask is "As a kid, did you like to tinker with things? Take them apart and put them back together? Did you ever build a treehouse?"

Which brings me to this pictorial:
The treehouse -
Barely visible in the Summer, the "fourth level" was about 50' from the ground, as measured with a 50' extension cord.

These first pictures were taken with a Kodak Instamatic camera, borrowed from Mom,  which used a flashcube and a square format. The pictures came printed on textured paper. This is 1975 and '76 and I was 15-16years old.

From our back yard, in the winter, it was easy to see. The first level had a couch, a sleeping bunk, a canvas roof and eventually, a brick fireplace.

And here you can see the smokestack for the fireplace on the right, the "second level, which was just silly to say it was a "level" but everyone else said so..." and my brother standing in the entrance, the swing (on a chain) and it's landing pad foolishly covered in slick vinyl flooring.

My best buddy "Molrus" in the following pic, took these with his Polaroid 650. This is our friend, Dabid, whose Mom with a thick oriental accent, couldn't pronounce "V"s or "L's

My oldest friend just before his 16th birthday.

This is Yours Truly on the return swing to the landing platform.

And, avoiding the picture, I'll end up dropping off the swing, my feet about ten feet from the ground.

The fourth level was really big and one evening, most of my high school French class, including teacher, spent some time up there underneath party lights listening to whatever we had playing on the 8-track. Compliments of Molrus' dad and his thousand foot roll of electric cable, we had power all the way up to the 5th level.

You can see my Mom's '72 VW bug (to the right of the house, off the driveway) from here.

It took two years to build and two days to tear down. Some kid we didn't know fell off the swing and broke both his wrists and his jaw. My uncle, the attorney, said "tear it down now."

To our horror, the tree died the next Summer. By Winter that year, it was a sad sight. I'd like to think that it missed us but I know the real reason it died was because the nail holes we left allowed bugs to get in. It was a magnificent oak tree, so big that it took three of us to reach our arms around it's base. It would have been a landmark in the neighborhood that would eventually surround it.

So... did you ever build a treehouse?

Just Raise it a Quater or So, Silly

It's Yo Birthday, Supafreak!

  You know what bad girls like me get on their birthday?! And when I say bad girl, you know what I mean? I mean superfreak! I'm a superfreak. (I'm super freaky - yow) We get anything we want 'cause we're super freaky.
 Anticipating today's extra special treats and activities, I've been thinking about what else, wood! I'm all about finesse. For all my years in "the business" I know the optimal ways to give and get the most pleasurable outcome when I'm intimately engaged with a nice stiff hunk of wood. Oops, pardon my drool!
 Now,I can't tell you how to do it because everyone is a little different but I can tell you how to get there. The way to achieve the ultimate, harmonious climax is to consider the following factors. Safety first? It's more a consideration for the less experienced and it just sucks to begin with but even I draw the line somewhere. If it looks gnarly, please protect yourself!
 Consider the thickness and hardness of the wood you're about to handle; is it hard yet flexible? Thin and long or scary thick? Think about all it's built up internal stress! Always be ready for the sudden release because sometimes you can't tell when it's going to pop. And pay attention to your rate of feed. Rate of feed. I think I just got wet.
 Rate of feed is linked to the thickness of that pretty piece you're handling. I'm sure it can be explained mathematically but basically it means the thicker the wood, the slower you can take it. I'm not embarrassed to admit that I can take it thick and fast. It's just what happens when it's your job.
 Of course, results are the bottom line and all I have to say about that is people love my bottom line. Lucky for me!



I remember reading somewhere, that one should keep the height of a table saw blade a quarter inch above the wood being cut. Like if you're cutting something 3/4 thick, the blade should be set at one inch. That's just fine when the saw has hold-downs and guards or is under a power feeder. Otherwise, it's bull. The only good thing about it could be - if you get cut, it probably won't be as deep. Maybe.

The best height of the blade is dependant on more than just the thickness of the wood. You have to consider its hardness, the flexibility of it, the speed you're pushing it, and the wood's own internal stress which, when cut into, can either pinch the blade or split itself in two. Maybe the scariest risk to having the blade so low is that you end up suddenly pushing the wood OVER the blade, then you are at the mercy of your own inertia and reflexes.
If you've ever cut plastic laminate, you know it's ridiculously wrong to use that 1/4" rule of thumb. Raising the blade nearly all the way up will hold the thin material down. It works the same way with thicker materials, too.

So, assuming a sharp blade on a well kept machine, there's safety, thickness, hardness, flexibility, internal stresses, rate of feed and desired results. Oh, and there's your attention span. (My first and worse cut was due to a lapse of attention.) There is an optimum balance between all those factors that seems to put the best blade height a good half inch or more above the material in most cases.

Oh Yes! I Will Assume the Position

 Oh boy, this looks big.
...and when I say big, you know what I mean...

I am about to re-enter my dirty old profession. Really, it's not as dirty as people might think and I bet if most people could? They would. And they'd love it, too but yea, it does turn into a job. Actually, I'm ecstatic about being pimped out again! I mean it was okay being out if the business for a while and I had a lot of fun just screwing around but ... I just need more wood. I love it and I'm really good at satisfying a client, and if I can I get paid to do it all day, why not get back in? It's like I was born with wood and and born to do it and I can't get enough of it and someday I'll die doing it! Perfect!

I've worked for different people in the business and been screwed a little more than I wanted in one. Not amazingly, I screwed myself a lot when I had my own shop!
But here's the cool thing about this job; here's what I'm about to have - A very understanding and generous pimp. I get to do my thing and he runs the business. Really, he's not a pimp at all in my mind. It's like we will be a team providing our clients' with their wildest requests. And, I get to run the shop! How cool is that!? Can you imagine me with like five guys at once? It's gonna be smouldering hot. Fabulously filthy. I'll be contently exhausted almost every night.

I do have some butterflies, though. Am I enough tranny to tangle with so many guys? At my age? Oh yea. This time it's more about the experience.
Now where's my boots and my whip...


This Labor Day, I resume my career in a cabinet shop here in Savannah. It's been over four years since I've had even the prospect of a steady job and now, thanks to an open minded person, I have the promise of a career as Shop Manager.

Remodel at Dad's house

 My dad and stepmom have a house on the banks of a river in a quiet little town. The river is called the Withlacoochee.

Say it with me Y'all, Withlacoochee.
With La Coochee.
?
Really?
You gotta love a river with a coochee. There is power With la coochie. In fact if you have one, you can do almost anything. Better yet, have it done for you!
Then there's the Willacoochee. The Willacoochie isn't nearly as strong and while it may be beautiful, it simply can't handle a big boat - and when I "a say big boat" you know what I mean. I mean a pretty dang big ole boat.

While I was writing this post, I became interested in the word coochie. I started exploring coochie ... slowly at first, with just two fingers, then adding another finger and thumb. I know. I'm not the best typist. I looked up coochee creek road. Coochie Creek Road. What can I say. Everyone should take a ride on coochee creek road. Ride slow and easy on a bicycle or fast and furious on a motorcycle, just enjoy the scenery and love the ride!

It's a beautiful place - a timber frame house right on the river, minutes away from the Gulf via boat.

(view up-river from the sun room)

I love the head light, Dad! It works great!

Dad has always been my hero. Nothing will ever change the way I feel about him and lucky for me, he has never let my status change the way he feels about me. I am so lucky! He's easing up on eighty years old and still loves to get into work. He beautifully restored a nice sized sail boat that took him and his crews on long trips to the islands. He eventually sold it and now he's restoring a catamaran, his favorite kind of boat. I remember flying a hull (!!) with him a few times in smaller one. His boat waits for him to put together a crew and sail South but first he has to finish the house. I'm just so happy that he hired me to help him finish it up! I mean I'd do it for nothing but he wouldn't have it that way, so thanks Dad!

There are some things I'd do differently, like rip out some odd door casing but it's hard to second guess your dad, yanno.

(pictures are clickable)

Because of plumbing issues, both the shower pan and the water closet had to be elevated. This is Dad's cool solution.

This was the first time I've ever used a wet saw, never did much tile work. It's pretty fun,though. All that crawling around on the floor...You know how trannies love to be down on all fours.

I'll take a picture of the little saw and explain how I made the inside radius cuts next time I post. Blogger software isn't as flexible as I'd like, and has been frustratingly flaky lately, so I'll just post this crap as is, without the other pictures and text I'd intended to include.

Oh, one more... see ya later, gator.

Time to Laugh

Saturday Night Live recently did a skit that mocks the transition of transgender women. It was a fake ad for “Estro-Maxx,” a hormone replacement therapy.

I haven't seen it yet but I will in just a minute. I became aware of it within hours because of a newswire and I thought to myself - how soon will "the community" react and how knee jerk will it be and how that automatically makes us look bad. The blogs picked it up immediately and It was only a day before I started seeing headlines about backlash. I haven't read any of those yet, either but I already know it won't look good.

In my opinion, our organisations create the "shove it down your throat" feeling we all hate. At the same time, I appreciate every single person who advocates equality for all in whatever way they can.

I know there are times to fight but this isn't one of them. Hey, they do skits about the President, right? And Jesus and rock stars, the beautiful and the ignorant people and all the silliness of life and death on our little planet, too.
Everybody and maybe even everything has been, or will be made fun of. That, itself is funny if you think about it. I'm not saying my feelings don't get hurt, they do. And even if I can't always laugh at myself, I can appreciate the humor for what it is.

Laugh. You live longer.

T-Fabulous

Today would have been a bad day...

Last night I decided to sleep alone. It wasn't good sleep.
I wake with achy muscles and bones and a heavy heart.
I duck out of work today and feel crappy about it. I contemplate my life here.

My boss calls in the afternoon. I answer the phone, ready to take some heat but instead he asks me to keep working for him and tells me that T-Fab wants me do do some work for them. Total Fabrications is a small woodworking shop that felt like home the first day I saw it about six months ago. I would love to work for them.

I start out to see them but the truck won't start. Dead battery.
I take Darcy's car and have a great meeting with the owners and small crew. The more we talked, the more at home I felt. I left feeling elated with a twinge of excitement for the future. I hope this will turn into a full time job.
On the drive home, the gas pedal seemed like it forgot what it was supposed to do, and as the car slowed I realised the engine had stopped. I coasted to a safe spot on the side of the road. I say "safe" but this is MLK and I am the only white woman - strike that - white tranny around. I instinctively reach for my phone and the second I see the dark screen, I remember talking with Darcy while I was at T-Fab about the gas gage and how it doesn't work. The phone warned me it was going to die right after we hung up.

I must have panicked for a second because I couldn't figure out how to open the trunk of Darcy's car to get the gas can. I couldn't even get the doors to lock. I was a mess.

So I strike out to find the nearest phone and come to two middle aged black guys talking in a church parking lot. As I approach, I can already see disgust in the face of one of them. I must have looked awfully distressed because even as one was repulsed and the other not pleased at all, I was allowed to used his phone.
I was thankful that I remembered Darcy's number, thankful she heard her phone and most grateful that these two people would help me. I thanked them and one said "I hope it all works out for you". The other just turned away with a scowl.

I sat in the car with the doors still unlocked as passers by scrutinised me. I was completely out of place and a little scared. Then I remembered that the truck battery was dead - but then Darcy had put the charger on it.The truck has had an intermittent problem with the alternator and ends up running off the battery (gotta fix that). Even if she did get it started, she probably couldn't make it here and Oh No. I bet she is stranded, too.

The sun was getting low and I thought that if I could get the trunk open and go get gas, I could get home, call her and rescue her! But I waited a little while longer and was happily startled by her tap on the window. She is my hero!
As she drove us home, she described how our neighbors  made her feel exceptionally welcome and went out of their way to help us. (They're black, too.) We're baking them a cake.

So. A mixed day, full of good and bad.
But the thing is,
the bad wasn't really bad
and the good was the best.

My faith and my hope, in every way, is renewed.