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#Post#: 8980--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: 90sRetroFan Date: September 22, 2021, 10:28 pm
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This is the territory later ruled by the Khazars:
HTML https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a9/Chasaren.jpg/738px-Chasaren.jpg
Compare with the maps in the previous post.
Note also:
HTML https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khazars
[quote]three Kabar tribes[107] of the Khazars (probably the
majority of ethnic Khazars) joined the Hungarians and moved
through Levedia to what the Hungarians call the Etelköz, the
territory between the Carpathians and the Dnieper River. ...
From 862 onwards, the Hungarians (already referred to as the
Ungri) along with their allies, the Kabars, started a series of
raids from the Etelköz into the Carpathian Basin, mostly against
the Eastern Frankish Empire (Germany) and Great Moravia, but
also against the Lower Pannonian principality and Bulgaria. Then
they together ended up at the outer slopes of Carpathians, and
settled there, where the majority of Khazars converted from
Judaism to Christianity in the 10th to 13th centuries.
...
It is often argued that a Rus' Khaganate modelled on the
Khazarian state had formed to the east and that the Varangian
chieftain of the coalition appropriated the title of qağan
(khagan) as early as the 830s: the title survived to denote the
princes of Kievan Rus', whose capital, Kyiv, is often associated
with a Khazarian foundation.[/quote]
Hence:
HTML http://aryanism.net/blog/other/racial-jewishness-archive-from-true-left-forum/
[quote]After Israel, the top countries in terms of significant
Ashkenazi Jewish ethnicity were Hungary and Russia[/quote]
#Post#: 8998--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: christianbethel Date: September 23, 2021, 6:24 pm
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So Russia and Hungary are bad guys?
#Post#: 9001--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: guest55 Date: September 23, 2021, 8:37 pm
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[quote author=christianbethel link=topic=137.msg8998#msg8998
date=1632439481]
So Russia and Hungary are bad guys?
[/quote]
See also:
HTML https://trueleft.createaforum.com/colonial-era/russia-the-last-colonial-empire/
HTML https://trueleft.createaforum.com/enemies/duginism/
HTML https://trueleft.createaforum.com/enemies/hungary-v4/
HTML https://trueleft.createaforum.com/news/state-subverters/?message=8917
#Post#: 9063--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: guest55 Date: September 26, 2021, 3:57 pm
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The Yamnaya Culture | Bronze Age Steppe Herders
[quote]The Yamnaya culture was a Copper Age to early Bronze Age
archaeological culture of the Pontic steppe (north of the Black
Sea) dating to 3300–2600 BC.
Its name derives from its characteristic burial tradition:
yamnaya is a Russian adjective that means 'related to pits', and
these people used to bury their dead in tumuli (the famous
kurgans - which we call barrows or burial mounds in Britain)
containing simple pit chambers beneath the mounds.
In life they practiced transhumance, a type of pastoralism or
nomadism where they spent winters in wooded river valleys and
summers out on the grasslands with their herds.
The Yamnaya culture is identified with the late
Proto-Indo-Europeans, and is the strongest candidate for the
original homeland of the Proto-Indo-European language (of which
English is just one of many descendants).
They possibly invented the wheel, they were the first (or
almost) to domesticate and ride horses, and they invented
4-wheeled, ox-drawn axeled wagons that enabled them to drive
herds of cattle across the steppes and carry enough water and
shelter with them to do so.[/quote]
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GalZLoTeU74
#Post#: 9527--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: 90sRetroFan Date: October 22, 2021, 9:54 pm
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Our enemies are proud of this:
HTML https://vdare.com/posts/modern-domestic-horses-come-from-russian-steppe-in-2200-bc
[quote]For thousands of years, the grassy plains of Europe and
Asia were home to a mosaic of genetically distinct horse
lineages. But a single lineage galloped ahead to overtake and
replace all the other wild horses.
… After collecting and sequencing 273 ancient horse genomes, a
team of 162 authors concluded that modern horses were
domesticated around 4,200 years ago in steppes around southern
Russia, near where the Volga and Don rivers intersect.
[img width=1280
height=701]
HTML https://www.unz.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/Screen-Shot-2021-10-22-at-12.50.14-AM.png[/img]
They found modern horses had two stark genetic differences from
other ancient lineages — one gene linked to docility and another
to a stronger backbone — which may have facilitated the animals’
spread.[/quote]
#Post#: 9600--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: guest55 Date: October 28, 2021, 10:11 pm
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The Answer to Lactose Intolerance Might Be in Mongolia
[quote]Mongolians’ DNA says they can’t digest milk, yet their
diet relies on dairy. A researcher investigates why.[/quote]
[quote]Mongolians subsist on a dairy-heavy diet, even though
most are lactose intolerant. Matthäus Rest[/quote]
(Then they spend the rest of the afternoon farting on a horse's
back apparently?)
[quote]Lake Khövsgöl is about as far north of the Mongolian
capital of Ulaanbaatar as you can get without leaving the
country. If you’re too impatient for the 13-hour bus ride, you
can take a prop plane to the town of Murun, then drive for three
hours on dirt roads to Khatgal, a tiny village nestled against
the lake’s southern shore. The felt yurts that dot the
surrounding green plains are a throwback to the days—not so long
ago—when most Mongolians lived as subsistence herders.
In July 2017, archaeogeneticist Christina Warinner headed there
to learn about the population’s complex relationship with milk.
In Khatgal, she found a cooperative called Blessed by Yak, where
families within a few hours’ drive pooled the bounty from their
cows, goats, sheep, and yaks to supply tourists with heirloom
dairy products.[/quote]
[img width=1280
height=881]
HTML https://pocket-syndicated-images.s3.amazonaws.com/614d3b477a372.png[/img]
[quote]Starting in 2016, in her Jena lab, Warinner and her team
scraped the teeth of skeletons buried on the steppes thousands
of years ago and excavated by archaeologists in the 1990s.
Samples about the size of a lentil were enough to reveal
proteins from cow, goat, and sheep milk. By tapping the same
remains for ancient DNA, Warinner could go one step further and
show that they belonged to people who lacked the gene to digest
lactose—​just like modern Mongolians do.
Samples of the microbiome from in and around today’s herders,
Warinner realized, might offer a way to understand how this was
possible. Though it’s estimated that just 1 in 20 Mongolians has
the mutation allowing them to digest milk, few places in the
world put as much emphasis on dairy. They include it in
festivities and offer it to spirits before any big trip to
ensure safety and success. Even their metaphors are dairy-based:
“The smell from a wooden vessel filled with milk never goes
away” is the rough equivalent of “old habits die hard.”
Down the hall from the ancient DNA lab, thousands of microbiome
samples the team has collected over the past two summers pack
tall industrial freezers. Chilled to minus 40 degrees F—colder,
even, than the Mongolian winter—the collection includes
everything from eezgi and byaslag to goat turds and yak-udder
swabs. Hundreds of the playing-card-size plastic baggies new
mothers use to freeze breast milk contain raw, freshly squeezed
camel, cow, goat, reindeer, sheep, and yak milk.
Warinner’s initial hypothesis was that the Mongolian
herders—​past and present—​were using
lactose-​eating microbes to break down their many
varieties of dairy, making it digestible. Commonly known as
fermentation, it’s the same bacteria-assisted process that turns
malt into beer, grapes into wine, and flour into bubbly
sourdough.
Fermentation is integral to just about every dairy product in
the Mongolian repertoire. While Western cheeses also utilize the
process, makers of Parmesan, brie and Camembert all rely on
fungi and rennet—​an enzyme from the stomachs of calves—to
get the right texture and taste. Mongolians, on the other hand,
maintain microbial cultures called starters, saving a little
from each batch to inoculate the next.
Ethnographic evidence suggests that these preparations have been
around a very, very long time. In Mongolian, they’re called
khöröngö, a word that’s derived from the term for wealth or
inheritance. They are living heirlooms, typically passed from
mother to daughter. And they require regular care and feeding.
“Starter cultures get constant attention over weeks, months,
years, generations,” says Björn Reichhardt, a
Mongolian-​speaking ethnographer at Max Planck and member
of Warinner’s team responsible for collecting most of the
samples in the Jena freezers. “Mongolians tend to dairy products
the way they would an infant.” As with a child, the environment
in which they’re nurtured is deeply influential. The microbial
makeup of each family’s starters seems to be subtly different.
After returning from Khatgal in 2017, Warinner launched the
Heirloom Microbe project to identify and catalog the bacteria
the herders were using to make their dairy products. The name
reflected her hope that the yurts harbored strains or species
ignored by industrial labs and corporate starter-​culture
manufacturers. Perhaps, Warinner imagined, there would be a
novel strain or some combination of microbes Mongolians were
using to process milk in a way that Western science had missed.
So far, she’s found Enterococcus, a bacterium common in the
human gut that excels at digesting lactose but was eliminated
from US and European dairy commodities decades ago. And they’ve
spotted some new strains of familiar bacteria like
Lactobacillus. But they haven’t identified any radically
different species or starters—no magic microbes ready to package
in pill form. “It doesn’t seem like there is a range of
superbugs in there,” says Max Planck anthropologist Matthäus
Rest, who works with Warinner on dairy research.
The reality might be more daunting. Rather than a previously
undiscovered strain of microbes, it might be a complex web of
organisms and practices—the lovingly maintained starters, the
milk-soaked felt of the yurts, the gut flora of individual
herders, the way they stir their barrels of airag—that makes the
Mongolian love affair with so many dairy products possible.
Warinner’s project now has a new name, Dairy Cultures,
reflecting her growing realization that Mongolia’s microbial
toolkit might not come down to a few specific bacteria. “Science
is often very reductive,” she says. “People tend to look at just
one aspect of things. But if we want to understand dairying, we
can’t just look at the animals, or the microbiome, or the
products. We have to look at the entire system.”
The results could help explain another phenomenon, one that
affects people far from the Mongolian steppes. The billions of
bacteria that make up our microbiomes aren’t passive passengers.
They play an active—if little understood—role in our health,
helping regulate our immune systems and digest our food.
Over the past two centuries, industrialization, sterilization,
and antibiotics have dramatically changed these invisible
ecosystems. Underneath a superficial diversity of
flavors—​mall staples like sushi, pad thai, and
pizza—​food is becoming more and more the same.
Large-scale dairies even ferment items like yogurt and cheese
using lab-grown starter cultures, a $1.2 billion industry
dominated by a handful of industrial producers. People eating
commoditized cuisine lack an estimated 30 percent of the gut
microbe species that are found in remote groups still eating
“traditional” diets. In 2015, Warinner was part of a team that
found bacteria in the digestive tracts of hunter-gatherers
living in the Amazon jungle that have all but vanished in people
consuming a selection of typical Western fare.
“People have the feeling that they eat a much more diverse and
global diet than their parents, and that might be true,” Rest
says, “but when you look at these foods on a microbial level,
they’re increasingly empty.”
A review paper in Science in October 2019 gathered data from
labs around the world beginning to probe if this dwindling
variety might be making us sick. Dementia, diabetes, heart
disease, stroke, and certain cancers are sometimes termed
diseases of civilization. They’re all associated with the spread
of urban lifestyles and diets, processed meals, and antibiotics.
Meanwhile, food intolerances and intestinal illnesses like
Crohn’s disease and irritable bowel disease are on the rise.
Comparing the microbiome of Mongolian herders to samples from
people consuming a more industrialized diet elsewhere in the
world could translate into valuable insights into what we’ve
lost—and how to get it back. Identifying the missing species
could refine human microbiome therapies and add a needed dose of
science to probiotics.
There might not be much time left for this quest. Over the past
50 years, hundreds of thousands of Mongolian herders have
abandoned the steppes, their herds, and their traditional
lifestyle, flocking to Ulaanbaatar. Around 50 percent of the
country’s population, an estimated 1.5 million people, now
crowds into the capital.
In summer 2020, Warinner’s team will return to Khatgal and other
rural regions to collect mouth swabs and fecal specimens from
herders, the last phase in cataloging the traditional Mongolian
micro-biome. She recently decided she’ll sample residents of
Ulaanbaatar too, to see how urban dwelling is altering their
bacterial balances as they adopt new foods, new ways of life,
and, in all likelihood, newly simplified communities of
microbes.
Something important, if invisible, is being lost, Warinner
believes. On a recent fall morning, she was sitting in her
sunlit office in the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and
Ethnography on Harvard’s campus. Mostly unpacked from her latest
trans-Atlantic move, she was contemplating a creeping,
yurt-by-yurt extinction event.
It’s a conundrum vastly different in size, but not in scale,
from those facing wildlife conservationists the world over. “How
do you restore an entire ecology?” she wondered. “I’m not sure
you can. We’re doing our best to record, catalog, and document
as much as we can, and try to figure it out at the same time.”
Preserving Mongolia’s microbes, in other words, won’t be enough.
We also need the traditional knowledge and everyday practices
that have sustained them for centuries. Downstairs, display
cases hold the artifacts of other peoples—​from the
Massachusett tribe that once lived on the land where Harvard now
stands to the Aztec and Inca civilizations that used to rule
vast stretches of Central and South America—whose traditions are
gone forever, along with the microbial networks they nurtured.
“Dairy systems are alive,” Warinner says. “They’ve been alive,
and continuously cultivated, for 5,000 years. You have to grow
them every single day. How much change can the system tolerate
before it begins to break?”
Warinner watched for hours as Blessed by Yak members transformed
the liquid into a dizzying array of foods. Milk was everywhere
in and around these homes: splashing from swollen udders into
wooden buckets, simmering in steel woks atop fires fueled by cow
dung, hanging in leather bags from riblike wooden rafters,
bubbling in specially made stills, crusting as spatters on the
wood-lattice inner walls. The women even washed their hands in
whey. “Working with herders is a five-senses experience,”
Warinner says. “The taste is really strong; the smell is really
strong. It reminds me of when I was nursing my daughter, and
everything smelled of milk.”
Each family she visited had a half-dozen dairy products or more
in some stage of production around a central hearth. And horse
herders who came to sell their goods brought barrels of airag, a
slightly alcoholic fizzy beverage that set the yurts abuzz.
Airag, made only from horse milk, is not to be confused with
aaruul, a sour cheese, created from curdled milk, that gets so
hard after weeks drying in the sun that you’re better off
sucking on it or softening it in tea than risking your teeth
trying to chew it. Easier to consume is byaslag, rounds of white
cheese pressed between wooden boards. Roasted curds called eezgi
look a little like burnt popcorn; dry, they last for months
stored in cloth bags. Carefully packed in a sheep-stomach
wrapper, the buttery clotted cream known as urum—made from
fat-rich yak or sheep milk—will warm bellies all through the
winter, when temperatures regularly drop well below zero.
Warinner’s personal favorite? The “mash” left behind when
turning cow or yak milk into an alcoholic drink called shimin
arkhi. “At the bottom of the still, you have an oily yogurt
that’s delicious,” she says.
Her long trip to Khatgal wasn’t about culinary curiosity,
however. Warinner was there to solve a mystery: Despite the
dairy diversity she saw, an estimated 95 percent of Mongolians
are, genetically speaking, lactose intolerant. Yet, in the
frost-free summer months, she believes they may be getting up to
half their calories from milk products.
Scientists once thought dairying and the ability to drink milk
went hand in hand. What she found in Mongolia has pushed
Warinner to posit a new explanation. On her visit to Khatgal,
she says, the answer was all around her, even if she couldn’t
see it.
Sitting, transfixed, in homes made from wool, leather, and wood,
she was struck by the contrast with the plastic and steel
kitchens she was familiar with in the US and Europe. Mongolians
are surrounded by microscopic organisms: the bacteria that
ferment the milk into their assorted foodstuffs, the microbes in
their guts and on the dairy-soaked felt of their yurts. The way
these invisible creatures interact with each other, with the
environment, and with our bodies creates a dynamic ecosystem.
That’s not unique. Everyone lives with a billions-strong
universe of microbes in, on, and around them. Several pounds’
worth thrive in our guts alone. Researchers have dubbed this wee
world the microbiome and are just beginning to understand the
role it plays in our health.
Some of these colonies, though, are more diverse than others:
Warinner is still working on sampling the Khatgal herders’
microbiomes, but another team has already gathered evidence that
the Mongolian bacterial makeup differs from those found in
more-industrial areas of the world. Charting the ecosystem they
are a part of might someday help explain why the population is
able to eat so much dairy—​and offer clues to help people
everywhere who are lactose intolerant.
Warinner argues that a better understanding of the complex
microbial universe inhabiting every Mongolian yurt could also
provide insight into a problem that goes far beyond helping
folks eat more brie. As communities around the world abandon
traditional lifestyles, so-called diseases of civilization, like
dementia, diabetes, and food intolerances, are on the rise.
Warinner is convinced that the Mongolian affinity for dairy is
made possible by a mastery of bacteria 3,000 years or more in
the making. By scraping gunk off the teeth of steppe dwellers
who died thousands of years ago, she’s been able to prove that
milk has held a prominent place in the Mongolian diet for
millennia. Understanding the differences between traditional
microbiomes like theirs and those prevalent in the
industrialized world could help explain the illnesses that
accompany modern lifestyles—and perhaps be the beginning of a
different, more beneficial approach to diet and health.
Nowadays, Warinner does her detective work at the Max Planck
Institute for the Science of Human History’s ancient DNA lab,
situated on the second floor of a high-rise bioscience facility
overlooking the historic center of the medieval town of Jena,
Germany. To prevent any errant DNA from contaminating its
samples, entering the lab involves a half-hour protocol,
including disinfection of foreign objects, and putting on
head-to-toe Tyvek jumpsuits, surgical face masks, and eye
shields. Inside, postdocs and technicians wielding drills and
picks harvest fragments of dental plaque from the teeth of
people who died long ago. It’s here that many of Warinner’s
Mongolian specimens get cataloged, analyzed, and archived.
Her path to the lab began in 2010, when she was a postdoctoral
researcher in Switzerland. Warinner was looking for ways to find
evidence of infectious disease on centuries-old skeletons. She
started with dental caries, or cavities—spots where bacteria had
burrowed into the tooth enamel. To get a good look, she spent a
lot of time clearing away plaque:​ mineral deposits
scientists call “calculus,” and that, in the absence of modern
dentistry, accumulate on teeth in an unsightly brown mass.
Around the same time, Amanda Henry, now a researcher at the
University of Leiden in the Netherlands, put calculus scraped
from Neanderthal teeth under the microscope and spotted starch
grains trapped in the mineral layers. The results provided
evidence that the population ate a diverse diet that included
plants as well as meat.
Hearing about the work, Warinner wondered if looking at
specimens from a medieval German cemetery might yield similar
insights. But when she checked for food remains under the
microscope, masses of perfectly preserved bacteria blocked her
from doing so. “They were literally in your way, obscuring your
view,” she recalls. The samples were teeming with microbial and
human genes, preserved and protected by a hard mineral matrix.
Warinner had discovered a way to see the tiny organisms in the
archaeological record, and with them, a means to study diet. “I
realized this was a really rich source of bacterial DNA no one
had thought of before,” Warinner says. “It’s a time capsule that
gives us access to information about an individual’s life that
is very hard to get from other places.”
The dental calculus research dovetailed with rising interest in
the microbiome, rocketing Warinner to a coveted position at Max
Planck. (In 2019, Harvard hired her as an anthropology
professor, and she now splits her time between Cambridge,
Massachusetts, and Jena, overseeing labs on two continents.) Her
TED talks have racked up more than 2 million views. “I never
expected to have an entire career based on something people
spend lots of time and money trying to get rid of,” she quips.
That grimy dental buildup, Warinner has learned, preserves more
than just DNA. In 2014, she published a study in which she and
her colleagues looked at the teeth of Norse Greenlanders,
seeking insight into why Vikings abandoned their settlements
there after just a few hundred years. She found milk proteins
suspended in the plaque of the area’s earliest settlers—and
almost none in that of people buried five centuries later. “We
had a marker to trace dairy consumption,” Warinner says.
This discovery led Warinner to turn to one of the biggest
puzzles in recent human evolution: Why milk? Most people in the
world aren’t genetically equipped to digest dairy as adults. A
minority of them—including most northern Europeans—​have
one of several mutations that allows their bodies to break down
the key sugar in milk, lactose, beyond early childhood. That
ability is called lactase persistence, after the protein that
processes lactose.
Until recently, geneticists thought that dairying and the
ability to drink milk must have evolved together, but that
didn’t prove out when investigators went looking for evidence.
Ancient DNA samples from all across Europe suggest that even in
places where lactase persistence is common today, it didn’t
appear until 3000 BCE—long after people domesticated cattle and
sheep and started consuming dairy products. For 4,000 years
prior to the mutation, Europeans were making cheese and eating
dairy despite their lactose intolerance. Warinner guessed that
microbes may have been doing the job of dairy digestion for
them.
To prove it, she began looking for places where the situation
was similar. Mongolia made sense: There’s evidence that herding
and domestication there dates back 5,000 years or more. But,
Warinner says, direct evidence of long-ago dairy consumption was
absent—until ancient calculus let her harvest it straight from
the mouths of the dead. [/quote]
HTML https://getpocket.com/explore/item/the-answer-to-lactose-intolerance-might-be-in-mongolia?utm_source=pocket-newtab
#Post#: 10093--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: guest55 Date: December 13, 2021, 12:02 am
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You just cannot make this stuff up:
Devs Stealing Breast Milk!? Asmongold on Blizzard's INSANE
Allegations
[quote]Asmongold's awfully embarrassed by Activision-Blizzard's
latest scandal. Women were forced to breastfeed their children
in horrendous conditions and workers at the company allegedly
stole their co-worker's breast milk. Repeatedly. Asmongold shows
how much it would cost for Blizz to avoid this completely, talks
about how Blizzard management is trying to silence emerging
unions on this and the worst part.. how this whole situation
might BENEFIT Activision-Blizzard in the long run.[/quote]
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KfxU0p9Wu8
#Post#: 10544--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: 90sRetroFan Date: January 13, 2022, 8:03 pm
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Our enemies' ongoing Turanian-worship:
HTML https://vdare.com/posts/why-did-fertility-go-up-in-mongolia
[img width=1280
height=520]
HTML https://pbs.twimg.com/media/FI3eCLPWUAUaOln?format=jpg&name=4096x4096[/img]
#Post#: 10868--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: guest55 Date: January 27, 2022, 9:33 pm
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Ron Johnson’s Message To Parents: You Are On Your Own
[quote]Chris Hayes: “To every parent in Wisconsin who is
struggling with the difficulties of this pandemic, know that the
message of Republican Senator Ron Johnson—who is up for
re-election in November—is: You are on your own.”[/quote]
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7q3hzOoDC9Q
[quote]I've never believed it's been societies role to look
after other people's children. — Ron Johnson[/quote]
And this same attitude is one of the reasons we have so many
barbarians living among us, many of them rightists.
#Post#: 11278--------------------------------------------------
Re: Turanian diffusion
By: guest55 Date: February 15, 2022, 12:57 am
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I don't get it? You would think if masculinity was the end goal
of these bodybuilders they would at least arrive at the
conclusion that it's hard to look "manly" if you're sitting
around drinking breast milk all day like an infant? You just
cannot make this stuff up....
Bodybuilders are Buying Breast Milk Online to Build Muscle
[quote]But everyone and their mother think it’s a terrible idea.
[/quote]
[quote]In recent years, there has been a growing market for
people to sell their excess breast milk online. Some nursing
mothers overproduce milk for various reasons, and instead of
letting it go to waste, they sell it online, typically to other
mothers who are unable to breast feed their own children. But a
new clientele of breast milk buyers have emerged: weightlifters
and bodybuilders.[/quote]
HTML https://www.muscleandfitness.com/athletes-celebrities/news/bodybuilders-are-buying-breast-milk-online-build-muscle/
Nothing like a bunch of "manly men" literally stealing baby food
in order to increase their sexual dimorphism even more.....
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