[trigger warning: internalized sexism bullshit] Girls who complain about being lonely
Here’s a list of things you can do to make yourself available and not look like a total idiot to men:
Take out your ridiculous facial piercings, no guy wants to show off a beautiful girl who has a bull ring in your schnoz.
Don’t always dress like you’re a fashionista, guys dig when you get…
lol bitch, PLEASE. let me stop you there.
My companion has angel bites, a smiley, and a mohawk, AND I LOVE IT
Nightmares: I’m the Monster
I just woke up from a terrible dream, like four times. Whenever I went back to sleep I just started dreaming again.
I dreamt that I was leaving. For some reason the dream implied I would be traveling to Canton, and I went to the drive-thru window of the two-story McDonalds that was on Liliha st. when I was growing up, where Daisy was working. (that’s almost a nightmare in itself.) I was just yelling at her, and she came out and said something to calm me down but I just ran away. I went to the cliff across the street, where a bunch of other angry people were jumping it.
When I tried to kill myself, I ended up just floating straight up into the air, so I decided the best course of action was to set myself on fire in the McDonalds.
Before I could do that though, I stabbed this guy in the throat with a screwdriver, and went inside the restaurant to find Daisy, but it was too crowded, then I realized I was gonna miss my flight to Canton, so I had to leave without apologizing.
Before I got on the plane, Daisy showed up and whispered something in my ear, something to the tune of “Don’t hold your job too tight, because you might break your love.”
It was actually really awful, and I couldnt go back to sleep because I just kept dreaming the same dream. It’s weird how when I was a kid, my nightmares were always about running away from the monster. But now in my dreams, I am the monster. I have dreams fairly frequently where I just destroy everything and ruin all the relationships I have. I think it means that I’m afraid of driving away those who love me, and that the thing I’m most afraid of is my own destructive potential.
Death once had a near-Rory experience.
![“Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter. I think that ‘twixt the negroes of the South and the women at the North, all talking about rights, the white men will be in a fix pretty soon. But what’s all this here talking about?
That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain’t I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain’t I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain’t I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother’s grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain’t I a woman?
Then they talk about this thing in the head; what’s this they call it? [member of audience whispers, “intellect”] That’s it, honey. What’s that got to do with women’s rights or negroes’ rights? If my cup won’t hold but a pint, and yours holds a quart, wouldn’t you be mean not to let me have my little half measure full?
Then that little man in black there, he says women can’t have as much rights as men, ‘cause Christ wasn’t a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.
If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back , and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them.
Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain’t got nothing more to say.”](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lmwsed38AU1qzr73ro1_500.jpg)
“Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter. I think that ‘twixt the negroes of the South and the women at the North, all talking about rights, the white men will be in a fix pretty soon. But what’s all this here talking about?
That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain’t I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain’t I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain’t I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother’s grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain’t I a woman?
Then they talk about this thing in the head; what’s this they call it? [member of audience whispers, “intellect”] That’s it, honey. What’s that got to do with women’s rights or negroes’ rights? If my cup won’t hold but a pint, and yours holds a quart, wouldn’t you be mean not to let me have my little half measure full?
Then that little man in black there, he says women can’t have as much rights as men, ‘cause Christ wasn’t a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.
If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back , and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them.
Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain’t got nothing more to say.”
(via supersoygrrrl)
and she's not even pretty!: A Brief List and Analysis of White Savior Films
A White Savior Film (WSF) is a movie that features a white person coming into the lives of a person or people of color (POCs) who are often low-income, troubled, and/or severely oppressed. The troubled times that the people of color are in can be a product of oppression from…
I’ve always wondered why so many of these movies rubbed me the wrong way a little, and now I kind of get it. Coooooool
After losing his parents, this 3 year old orangutan was so depressed he wouldn’t eat and didn’t respond to any medical treatments. The veteranarians thought he would surely die from sadness. The zoo keepers found an old sick dog on the grounds in the park at the zoo where the orangutan lived and took the dog to the animal treatment center. The dog arrived at the same time the orangutan was there being treated. The 2 lost souls met and have been inseparable ever since.
The orangutan found a new reason to live and each always tries his best to be a good companion to his new found friend. They are together 24 hours a day in all their activities
This makes me really really really really really really happy.
(Source: pocketfulofgeorgina, via prettykittymulu)
THIS IS A RUNNING OCTOPUS.
YOUR ARGUMENT IS INVALID
I JUST GOOGLED IT, IT’S REAL.
omfg
Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!
The Arabic for Octopus is UktooBooT
Terrible transliteration, forgive me
Wetzel-Pretzel (Tumblr Version)
Wuall Ol’ “Pa” Newman and I go waaay back. We used to go to the cabaret on Friday nights, lean against the bar and make fun of the boys on shore leave. We’d sip our drinks till our lips got bored. Then we’d ask the gals if they wanted to dance, and if they said yes we’d dance, and if they said no we’d call the Time Police (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0Zr_C74DQU) and have them cyrogenically frozen for six months. Some times “Pa” and I would find ourselves with an eerily similar fancy for the same lass, so at those times we would step briefly into a back-alley, or the renaissance art exhibit of a history museum for a bout of fisty-cuffs. See, back then being a man meant being a gentleman, and being a gentleman meant sitting with your left ankle resting just so atop your right knee, or on occasion with your right ankle just there on your left knee. Which ever ankle it was, you had to be sure you were showing enough of your sock as to be inconspicuous, but not too much as to raise contempt in the observer’s eye. See, if you didn’t have any sock showing at all people really noticed it, they’d say “Well look at that fella with his left ankle on his right knee and not an inch of sock showing. His pants go right to the top oh his shoe even with his leg all bent like that. I wonder how he keeps the bottoms of his pants from getting all dirty….” and so on and so on. On the other hand though, showing too much sock was a dead give-away that you was low, and probably ate horse meat and kept your peanut-butter and spagetti sauce jars to use as drinkin’ cups for later. See people think that life back then was all about coin flips and sky-mall magazines, but if they really read up on their history they’d see it was about a lot more than all that.
I can’t be the only one in the world that thought, “OMG. FUTURE!DAMIAN/BARNES” in ‘A Good Man Goes to War’
Right?
Also, fic now, please.
My headcanon is that these two are now named Damian/Barnes. Maybe everybody”s favorite Wincest Cosplayers got sucked through a time rift and landed at Demon’s Run?
(Source: afterelton.com)
(Source: socialuprooting, via daiseebee-deactivated20110815)
(Source: alamaquina, via daiseebee-deactivated20110815)
Too much heart to leave the universe on its own…
Sometimes I feel like I have two hearts, and right now they both feel a little bruised.
Ha, this is especially true for Evergreen. “Uhhhh… we don’t have those.”
daiseebee-deactivated20110815 asked: http://judeajackson.tumblr.com/post/6127610054
Check out these fucking chopsticks!!!!
Whoooooooooaaaaaaaaa
