Please read, as there's a lot of things being said about myself and others by one persistent loser.
All anonymous messages are being sent by one user who is critically mentally unwell and is very obviously at-risk. Please contact me for full details regarding her, I can give you the information to make police reports as needed re: her address, union and employer. I do not like her as a person, but I am concerned for her safety and the safety of others around her.
First, my name is Ian. I'm a trans man. I write and draw. Alternate socials as follow:
FurAffinity: makopins
AO3/Fanfiction.net/Wattpad: theboysfromaustin (Only AO3 is active)
GingaBoard: Ian
Discord: theboysfromaustin
Pillowfort: theboysfromaustin
YouTube: CenTexNightscapes
First off: let me apologize to anyone this psychotic imbecile has harassed.
So, to explain, I and multiple other people in the Ginga community are being harassed by one Kelsey Sydorenko. I was once "friends" with her - massive mistake there. Her GingaBoard names were KremlinJill and Sonichu (now deleted by admin.). Her Tumblr usernames have included lithiumblessin and moviledreamer, and the latest was lithiumcommune, which is now deleted because Kelsey is a coward and she's hiding on multiple other shells now. Tumblr staff has done nothing to address this despite multiple reports over the months.
She celebrates rape and suicide attempts, as well as the death of loved ones. She accused people of pedophilia and zoophiliia (ironic, given she has stated she buys plush toys for her cat to fuck), and is a racist and ableist. She's severely mentally unwell and potentially off her meds. She is known to be bipolar and has borderline personality disorder. She is an ardent supporter of the IDF and advocates the Gaza genocide.
Her behavior has been consistently aggressive, noted by multiple people in the Ginga community. She claims to be queer but is extremely homophobic and transphobic. Wrap your head around that one - I can't. She lacks any sort of reading comprehension and can't figure out context clues and probably couldn't explain the plot of 'Hop on Pop' if you asked her. She also does not understand things like 'humor' or 'sarcasm' or you know, basic concepts like 'not being a massive cunt.'
She hides on anon because like a cat sitting behind a sheer curtain, she thinks she's invisible. You're not. We fucking see you. I've attached some choice screenshots of things she's sent to me as well as @raine-of-auroria
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TW: contains dream sequence which contains homophobia and murder
----
October 12, 2004
Kazuo twitched in his sleep, Ian stirring next to him. He inhaled sharply, eye screwed shut, “Ah…ah….no….” Ian raised his head, “Kaz? Honey?” “Dad…please…” “Kaz, wake up, love…” Kazuo shook, trapped in a nightmare.
—-
Chicago, Illinois
Kazuo stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around his waist. Leaning on the dirty sink, he stared into the cracked mirror that was discolored from years of cigarette smoke. He exhaled softly, using a hole-filled, threadbare towel to dry his long hair. His stomach rumbled from hunger, the half can of Spaghettios he'd eaten that morning not having stayed with him. He let the towel fall around his shoulders.
“Kazuo!”
He flinched immediately, “Y…yes…?” His voice shook. The door was flung open and he stumbled backwards. Shit, that's right…he broke the lock the other day…Kenjiro entered the room, reeking of alcohol and smoke, oxygen tubing trailing behind him, “Where are my smokes, you little shit?” “You…you had ‘em earlier…check the…kitchen…” Kenjiro's eyes narrowed as he processed that, then his gaze fixed on Kazuo.
Kazuo was immediately uncomfortable, and stepped back. “What's that on your shoulder?” Kazuo glanced down, paling, seeing that his towel wasn't covering the large rainbow band that encircled his left shoulder, “N-nothing!” He'd always strategically hidden it from his father using oversized shirts. “What is that?!” Kenjiro stumbled forward, topping the towel from his shoulders, “What the fuck is that?! Are you some kind of faggot?!”
“It…I…” Kazuo shook, voice wavering, “It's….just…” “Unbelievable! I have a cocksucker for a son!” Kenjiro shoved him backwards, Kazuo stumbling slightly. “Dad, I…I'm….” “Are you actually working at the bar, or are you whoring yourself out?!” “I've never even -” “What would your mother say about you being a fucking faggot?!” Kenjiro jabbed one nicotine-stained finger into his son's chest. Kazuo looked away, tears stinging his eye, “She…she'd still love me! Like a parent is supposed to!”
Kenjiro’s temper flared, absolutely incensed by Kazuo's response. Sure, it was true that Nanami would still love him - after all, she had adored that stupid fag lawyer, but to think she'd support her own son being a degenerate snapped something in his broken mind.
Kazuo stared fearfully at him, hunched over like a frightened animal. He didn't have time to react as Kenjiro's fist connected with his nose, blood immediately streaming down his face. Kazuo yelped in fear and shock, stumbling against the dirty, cracked tub, “Dad, please, I -” “Shut up!” He grabbed Kazuo by the hair, his other fist raining blows against his son’s chest, “I'm not going to have a disgusting animal in my house!”
“I…I'll leave! Just let me…” Kenjiro grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him against the tile wall, “Shut up! You're not going anywhere. You…you'd just go find your grandfather and sic that fucking shithead lawyer on me!” “I…wouldn't even know how to find him!” “I'm not taking that chance,” Kenjiro's eyes were unfocused from rage and alcohol, “You're not leaving.”
Kazuo’s eye went wide as he realized the gravity of his situation too late.
Kenjiro gripped his shoulders, throwing his son off-balance. He crashed to the floor, the breath knocked out of his lungs. Grabbing his oxygen tubing, Kenjiro looped it around Kazuo's neck, twisted it and pulled it tight. Immediately, Kazuo retched and gagged, eye wide with fear as blood vessels began to rupture. He gasped, clawing ineffectively at his father's arms. The only emotion on Kenjiro's face was a stony anger as he choked the life out of his son, “One less of you people in the world…”. His own head swam as he deprived his own nicotine-riddled lungs of air, but his mind was focused on what needed to be done, voice dripping with venom as he stared at his dying son. Kazuo's hands twitched, eye going glassy, lips turning blue. Bloody froth flecked his mouth. “You…you never should have lived this long…” Kenjiro’s breathing was labored, gradually evening out as he unkinked his oxygen hose, “I'm free of you now, you little freak…”
—--
Kazuo lunged upright, hands clawing the air, eye wild. Ian put one hand on the scarred side of Kazuo's face, a gentle touch he'd given hundreds of time by this “Get your fucking hands off me, don't touch me!” Kazuo swung at him, still in that hazy stage between asleep and awake. His fist connected just below Ian's left eye. Ian immediately flinched back in shock, tearing up, “K-kaz….honey…it's me. It's Ian.” Kazuo stared straight ahead, shoulders shaking, chest heaving, Breathe. You can breathe. You're…
Alive…?
Kazuo steadied himself, staring at his hands as they gradually stopped shaking. You're okay. You're alive. You're with…He turned his head. Ian was staring at him with concern, a fearful look in his eyes. His left eye already had a lump appearing below it. Immediately, Kazuo's heart faltered, seeing Ian be scared. “Ian, I…” “Are you okay? Can I…touch you…? You…hit me…I know you didn't mean to…did you?” His voice was small. Shaky. A far cry from either his soft gentle lilt or the lawyer’s bravado. Kazuo's lower lip quivered and he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Ian, sobbing into his chest, “I hit you?! Oh god, I'm so fucking so-o-orry!”
“Hey, hey…it's okay. It's okay. Are you alright?” Kazuo whimpered, “I had…I guess it was a nightmare…” His fingers dug into Ian's skin, “It seemed so real.” “What happened, love?” Ian's voice was soft, and he began massaging Kazuo's back, feeling him tremble. “Well…I was back in Chicago. I'd just gotten out of the shower and my dad barged in. He saw my rainbow tattoo and completely lost it. He killed me. Strangled me with his oxygen tubing. I felt myself die.”
Ian buried his face in Kazuo's hair so the younger man wouldn't see the tears spilling down his cheeks, “My poor, sweet love. You're safe here. He can't hurt you here.” Kazuo exhaled, a long, shuddering sigh, “I'm so sorry. I hurt you.” “It's not so bad.” “And I woke you up and scared you in the process, I could have woken Anders up…I…hit you…” Kazuo bit his lip, feeling like a complete fuck-up.
“I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about you,” Ian drew back so he could look Kazuo in the eye. Kazuo saw the wetness on his cheeks, the sincerity in his eyes, “Oh, Ian, I…god, I'm lucky to have you.” “And I'm lucky to have you. You were a gift. A gift from Kensuke…from Nana. You are my world, and I'd do anything for you.”
Kazuo gently stroked his face, then softly kissed the lump below his eye, “Do you want some ice?” “No. It'll go down.” “You looked scared of me,” Kazuo's voice was quiet. “I was just surprised. I'd never seen you like that.” “It felt so real, like I was dying. I never want to see my father again. I'm too afraid of him. I…I'm a coward.”
“You are not a coward.”
“Mama…she'd want me to stand up to him…” “No,” Ian's voice was soft, yet firm, “She would want you safe and loved. And she…she would have loved you. Supported you.” “Thank you,” Kazuo sighed, eye shut. “Go to sleep. Roll over, I'll be big spoon.” Kazuo grinned, rolling and pressing his back to Ian's chest. Ian pulled him close, arms around Kazuo's chest, hooking his left leg over Kazuo's. He ran his foot up and down Kazuo's lower leg, humming softly.
Kazuo relaxed, content once more in Ian's arms. He was safe here. Kenjiro couldn't get to him here. I'm okay. I'm safe, I'm happy. I'm loved, and I love Ian, and Anders, and Maureen. I'm going to live a good, long life with Ian at my side. My father will die alone and bitter, and he’ll never hurt me again….
That was a good thought, and he let himself sink into Ian's arms.
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You know what? Fuck it I'm adding more context. Sesame Street has talked about the topic of death more than once and it's done with such gentle carefulness without watering down or censoring the heaviness of the situations. It treats heavy subject matter with respect and dignity and has been for DECADES.
From the early 1980s:
To 2025:
Hell, they even cover the devastating heaviness of MASS SHOOTINGS without censoring or watering anything down.
They've been doing this for YEARS, and it's ALWAYS handled with dignity, respect, seriousness, understanding, and love.
Whenever I see people censoring words because it "might offend" someone or the big ad companies that are currently trying to run everything? I just want to say to them: "What? Is Sesame Street too mature for you?" Because really...what the hell are we doing.
I'm back with even more examples! Sesame Street once again to this day is out here handling extremely difficult subject matter with incredible care and respect. "We can't let kids learn about uncomfortable things!" Oh, really now? Even though they're things that happen in everyday life that they'll face one day at some point anyway? Interesting. Let's see what else this show has covered that people (for some reason) think should be avoided and hidden. Here's more on death of loved ones and greif:
Or how about when someone is put into the foster care system because their home isn't safe anymore and their needs aren't being met?
Maybe some discussions about group therapy/getting help and support?
Hey look! Here's a segment about gender expression vs taught expectation, including unlearning harmful biases and what to do when you hurt someone on accident because you didn't know it was wrong!
Look! The topic of race and diversity! The importance of unity and equity!
They even also have a more allegorical take on discrimination and being looked down on for who you are, featuring Big Bird. The conflict is about how he's not being let into a club because the one bird running the club personally decided he didn't want someone like Big Bird there.
Big Bird goes out of his way to keep changing parts of himself in order to "prove" he can fit into this club if he just changed enough. The truth comes out though, and there's nothing he can do to gain the approval of that bird. He will never be good enough in his eyes, and Big Bird starts to hate himself. His real friends see this finally put their feet down, emphasizing that you should never change yourself just to fit into one singular narrow idea someone else has.
There's A LOT of different situations this can be an allegory for. Racism, sexism, homophobia, basically ANY form of exclusion is put on full blast in this 15 minute clip. Sesame Street can be both blunt and allegorical when approaching difficult topics, and it NEVER misses or looses the point.
It does an exceptional job in both styles of representation WITHOUT watering anything down. The more sanitized everything gets, the more radical Sesame Street is suddenly considered, hence why so many "particular groups" want it gone. Hmmm! I can only imagine why that could be, in this current political climate! (I'm being sarcastic)
When Sesame Street is suddenly labeled as "questionable" or "politically/agenda motivated" content...it says A LOT about where we currently are and who gets to decide what's "best" for kids or not. Don't fall for the censorship and topic-dodging excuses that are covered by the "But think of the children!!!" movement. Never fall for it, because you know which side you're on if you do.
Sesame Street proves kids can be taught and trusted with learning about these topics when it's handled with the right amount of understanding and care. It shows what all this "controversy" is all really about. What it's always been about, actually.
Don't fall for it, always side with Sesame Street.
I’m watching that documentary “Before Stonewall” about gay history pre-1969, and uncovered something which I think is interesting.
The documentary includes a brief clip of a 1954 televised newscast about the rise of homosexuality. The host of the program interviewed psychologists, a police officer, and one “known homosexual”. The “known homosexual” is 22 years old. He identifies himself as Curtis White, which is a pseudonym; his name is actually Dale Olson.
So I tracked down the newscast. According to what I can find, Dale Olson may have been the first gay man to appear openly on television and defend his sexual orientation. He explains that there’s nothing wrong with him mentally and he’s never been arrested. When asked whether he’d take a cure if it existed, he says no. When asked whether his family knows he’s gay, he says that they didn’t up until tonight, but he guesses they’re going to find out, and he’ll probably be fired from his job as well. So of course the host is like …why are you doing this interview then? and Dale Olson, cool as cucumber pie, says “I think that this way I can be a little useful to someone besides myself.”
1954. 22 years old. Balls of pure titanium.
Despite the pseudonym, Dale’s boss did indeed recognize him from the TV program, and he was promptly fired the next day. He wrote into ONE magazine six months later to reassure readers that he had gotten a new job at a higher salary.
Curious about what became of him, I looked into his life a little further. It turns out that he ultimately became a very successful publicity agent. He promoted the Rocky movies and Superman. Not only that, but get this: Dale represented Rock Hudson, and he was the person who convinced him to disclose that he had AIDS! He wrote the statement Rock read. And as we know, Rock Hudson’s disclosure had a very significant effect on the national conversation about AIDS in the U.S.
It appears that no one has made the connection between Dale Olson the publicity agent instrumental in the AIDS debate and Dale Olson the 22-year-old first openly gay man on TV. So I thought I’d make it. For Pride month, an unsung gay hero.
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I saw this and remembered something. I was probably in preschool or kindergarten and the friendly local firefighters came in to tell us about the dangers of fires and if being a dipshit playing with matches, standard stuff. But what I remember most was they had this exact Miss Piggy, which they'd pulled from a house fire, completely mangled, burned and half-melted
Open list of the worst top 40s pop lyrics to hear played every 60 minutes 9 hours a day in a large retail building every fucking day for three goddamn months, I'll go first:
The neverENding, MIIIDnight,, SUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHUHUHUHUHUHUuhHUHuhUHUHuhUUUUuhUUUuhUUUUHHHHuHHHHHHuHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNHHHHHHHHHUHUHUHUHUHUuhHUHuhUHUHuhUUUUuhUUUuhUUUUHHHHuHHHHHHuHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHN
I worked at TJ Maxx when Hey There Delilah AND Somebody That I Used to Know charted and I heard those multiple times a day. I almost prayed for the Christmas music.
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My fridge refuses to dip below just over 40 and I bought burger patties yesterday so I've been playing food safety roulette, but I've eaten 3 burgers with no issues. And I cook them rare for extra danger.
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