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Rachel Aliza Leeds-Minkin / Sourpuss

naught

`he who laughs last laughs best`
Registered
Rachel Aliza Leeds Minkin / @Sourpuss is a 28 year old lolcow in the long tradition of female-centric lolcows leading back to PixyTeri, The LCF userbase sought out discussion beyond "lol fat wouldn't sex" This marks lolcow.farms as distinct from Kiwi Farms (plus lolcow.farms is an imageboard akin to /cow/ Yet sprung from 4chans /cgl/ board which helps to explain the ladies and aspiring ladies savage analysis on the unfashionable and anorexic alike).
dox here
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another dox confirmation, one more.
This particular Sephiroth fan and RP enthusiast had a single dead thread with not even a dox, Although with assistance from the local lolcord (LCF Discord server) all of that changed when Rachel got baited and posted her uncensored ID, and in a short amount of time Rachel has racked up 9 threads and counting on LCF alone as well as a thread on KF.
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Oddly enough this parallels Rachels's would-be mentor @ElaineMilfer who complained to null about a thread that didn't exist. The pair also shares bitter hate of the admin Ines LARPing as her and doxing her with little to no result.
Thread 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 current thread 9.
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Now, none of this would have crossed my radar if not for a thread made here that brought Rachel to my attention.
Little did I know what I stumbled upon regardless I rolled with it, as you can see Rachel replied to her thread here which lends credence to the notion Rachel tries to steer the narrative in her LCF threads.
Rachel came from LCF and misunderstood the point of the Random.Txt thread and in the process delivered more Random.Txt content.
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All the while Rachel remained adamant she does not shit herself which solidifies the need for the Gross tag on KF.
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In true CWC fashion, Rachel tried to overwhelm her perceived enemies via information overload not content with being fully doxed Rachel decided to "clarify some things " and revealed a horde of unused beauty products along with claims she had not been paying attention to the drama.
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Rachel proceeded to file reports against her own as well as others' posts as if it were the hall of debate.
Apparently, Rachel took a particular disliking to @Königin Erika dubbed Trannykun by LCF.
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LINKS & CONTACTS:

 

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Finally. A proper OP. What aren't men better than women at?

It's a shame no one saved the dildo collections, including the baby skull/fist combo.
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@Sourpuss what is the appeal to a dildo like this if you don't mind me asking. I want to believe it's meant to punch the cervix while the baby's head rests just outside, simulating birth which; as weird as that is is far less concerning than the alternative uses.
Also. Why is the fist baby sized?

I have questions.
 
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Full Name: Rachel Aliza Leeds-Minkin (Age: 28)
Address: 57 W. Summit Drive, Emerald Hills California (ZIP: 94062-3340)

Father: Stephen Charles Minkin (Age: 71)
Address: 57 W. Summit Drive, Emerald Hills California
Phone Number: (650) 619 0365 [Registered to Diana F Leeds]

Mother: Diana F. Leeds (Age: 69)
Address: 57 W. Summit Drive, Emerald Hills California
Home Phone Number: (650) 364 9853
Cell Phone: (650) 619 1854


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*Nohull enters the chat*
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There is an idea of a Nohull, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real online persona, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my seriousposting and you can upvote my post and feel me upvoting yours and maybe you can even sense our posting styles are probably comparable: I simply am not there. It is hard for me to make sense on any given level. Myself is fabricated, an aberration. I am a noncontingent poster. My posts are sketchy and unformed, my shitpostness goes deep and is persistent. My effortposting, my doods, my hopes disappeared a long time ago (probably at Universidad Complutense of Madrid) if they ever did exist. There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the unsneedable and the based, the undabable and the cringe, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed. I still, though, hold on to one single bleak truth: no one is safe, nothing is unmemable. Yet I am blameless. Each model of online posting must be assumed to have some validity. Is cringe something you are? Or is it something you do? My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this—and I have countless times, in just about every act I’ve committed—and coming face-to-face with these truths, there is no catharsis. I gain no deeper knowledge about myself, no new understanding can be extracted from my telling. There has been no reason for me to tell you any of this. This shitpost has meant nothing...

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There is an idea of a Nohull, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real online persona, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my seriousposting and you can upvote my post and feel me upvoting yours and maybe you can even sense our posting styles are probably comparable: I simply am not there. It is hard for me to make sense on any given level. Myself is fabricated, an aberration. I am a noncontingent poster. My posts are sketchy and unformed, my shitpostness goes deep and is persistent. My effortposting, my doods, my hopes disappeared a long time ago (probably at Universidad Complutense of Madrid) if they ever did exist. There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the unsneedable and the based, the undabable and the cringe, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed. I still, though, hold on to one single bleak truth: no one is safe, nothing is unmemable. Yet I am blameless. Each model of online posting must be assumed to have some validity. Is cringe something you are? Or is it something you do? My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this—and I have countless times, in just about every act I’ve committed—and coming face-to-face with these truths, there is no catharsis. I gain no deeper knowledge about myself, no new understanding can be extracted from my telling. There has been no reason for me to tell you any of this. This shitpost has meant nothing...

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