whenever i watch a show with my family i like to throw in bits of trivia about the writers, actors, original script… that sort of thing
they’re never as awed as they should be tbh
the past was fucked up
the present ain’t too much better
"Hey Harold, I made this cool vest, I think it’ll fit you!"
"Oh neat! *puts on vest* how’s it look?"
"That looks fantastic! Go stand by the hedges, I’ll take a picture!"
"Okay! wait, that’s not a camera, that’s a whAT THE FU—"
"Hey Harold. Hey, Harold? You okay, buddy?"
"HEY JOHNNY, YOU OWE ME A FIVER"
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Just caSUALLY STICKING MY 2 YEAR OLD CHILD OUT OF A THIRD STOREY WINDOW BECAUSE IT NEEDS SUNLIGHT TO GROW."
"My child is a plant."
me at parties
I wonder how many stranger’s stories we make it into? You know, maybe someone saw you in passing and told their friends about how pretty the girl in the lavender sweater was. Or maybe they overheard you say a joke and repeated it to their friend, confessing that they heard it from some guy at the store.
I want to be kissed and also be at target right now
I like breasts and chests.
I hated this. I hated knowing what I wanted and knowing what was right and knowing they weren’t the same thing.
Maggie Stiefvater (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
until rape laws are changed to include being forced to penetrate, until routine infant male genital mutilation isn’t socially acceptable, until men aren’t required to sign up for the draft when they turn 18, Waluigi isn’t going to believe that feminism stands for equality. Sorry.
You know that many feminists (including myself) are in favor of everything you are advocating for, right?
But also- these issues are caused BY the same societal forces that we are working to dismantle.
AND feminism is not rendered invalid because you feel that we aren’t doing enough for men. “Helping men” is not the sole yard stick by which we measure the worth of our efforts.
Why can’t there be a male hooter’s equivalent where male servers are shirtless and highly sexualized for their bodies and looks
Male Strip clubs. You’re thinking of male strip clubs.
No. Not a male strip club. A strip club is a strip club. I want a place called Cahones where waiters wear Speedos and are forced to stuff if they don’t fill out their uniform well enough. I want them to giggle for my tips. I want it to be so normalised and engrained in our culture that women bring their daughters there for lunch (because whaaaaaat the wings are good! Geeze sensitive much?) where they’ll give playful little nudges like, “Wouldn’t mind if you dad had those. Heh heh heh.” that their daughters don’t even understand but will absorb and start to assume is just the normal way grown up women talk about grown up men. I want to playfully ask my waiter if I can have extra nuts on my salad and for him to swat my arm with an Oh, you because he knows if he doesn’t his manager will yell at him. I want other men to pretend to like going there so I think they’re cool. I want to go to Cahones during my lunch break at work and when I come back and tell the other women in the office where I went they chuckle slightly and the men around us suddenly feel self conscious and they don’t know why.