Sunday night boredom leads to making some stuff. Just a bit of some screenshots I’ve collected in the past few months from heartless jerks. Look at me living, you big fucking turds. (Side note: sad part is that there are so many more where these came from)
Everyone reblog this because it’s important to see how peoples attitude’s towards rape victims still are today. This was someone very close to me and this time it’s not just another thing getting passed around on the internet that you can easily distance yourself from, it’s very real to me.
Today is one year. Lots of messages and nice things have surrounded me today. It’s an odd feeling, being grateful for a shitty night. It’s molded me into a completely different person in one year.
I kind of want to cry
As a paranormal/horror blogger I can assure you these child abuse ads are the most scariest and saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Probably because things like that are happening RIGHT NOW at this very INSTANT.
And it’s horrifying but hopefully these ads bring more attention towards it.
I got these from this buzzfeed article. You can view more ads and the sources for these ads there as well.
OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO PISS MYSELF
This kid needs a nobel prize
When spoken word artist Brenna Twohy tells you that she is an unabashed devotee of all things “Potterotica” — erotic fiction based in the magical universe of Harry Potter — your response probably shouldn’t be that her taste is “unrealistic.”
I’m happy to be getting to the point where I don’t have to feel weird about enjoying fanfiction, or having written a bunch of it. Partly it’s that the fandom experience has become more broadly shared. Partly it’s that I stopped giving a shit.
And as for why I like the porny sort of fanfiction, see above. She says it better.
I like sex with context. I like sex when it involves fully fleshed out characters. I like the backstories. I like feeling like these people do other things when they aren’t having sex.
my dad died from ALS when i was 3 years old. he was 36. my mom was 33. that was 30 years ago. now i’m the same age my mom was when my dad died. and there is still no cure for ALS.
this is what happens when you have ALS: your muscles slowly stop working, one part at a time. for my dad, first he couldn’t use one of his hands. then his arm. then the other arm. then he couldn’t walk. then he couldn’t stand up. then he couldn’t talk. then he couldn’t swallow. then he couldn’t breathe. then he was dead.
this all took about two years. he was diagnosed when i was about one year old. the only memories i have about my dad are of an inert body in a wheelchair or lying in a bed with a bunch of tubes stuck into it. as i was learning to talk, he was losing the ability to speak. as i was learning to walk, he stopped being able to move. my mom often had to choose between who she was going to help go to the bathroom at any given moment: her husband or her toddler.
after my dad died, my mom took over the philadelphia chapter of the ALS association. it consisted of a shoebox full of notecards with names on it. now it is a multi-million dollar organization with a large staff. she is still in charge. my mom is one of the most amazing people on the planet, basically.
these past couple weeks have been mind-boggling. i have openly wept watching so many of these videos. i still don’t completely get how all of this has happened, but now we live in a world in which lil wayne and taylor swift and oprah and justin timberlake and weird al and bill gates talk about ALS. my mom just emailed me this sentence: “lebron james ice bucket challenge.” i mean, IS THIS REAL LIFE?! i just keep saying over and over: holy shit. holy shit. holy shit.
so far, it has raised over 10 million dollars… and counting. my mom has spent every single day of her life for the past three decades trying to get this kind of attention and funds for this disease.
i don’t care if it’s a stupid gimmick. i don’t care if people are just doing this because it’s trendy or because they want pats on the back. i don’t care if it’s the new harlem shake. i don’t care if for the rest of my life, when i talk about ALS, i have to say “you know, the ice bucket disease.”
please, everybody, please keep pouring buckets of ice over your heads. please keep donating money. please keep talking about this.
my mom’s chapter:
p.s. the only reason i haven’t done my own ice bucket challenge yet is because i wanted to do it with my mom. we’re seeing each other next week, so it will happen then, i promise.
530. Muggleborns excitedly talking about how much they love Vampire Weekend, and purebloods getting confused because they don’t know when vampire weekend is.
y’all try to find the tiniest reason to not support sj/feminism like “oh wow a troll blog once said eating chinese food is cultural appropriation haha sorry i guess i don’t support trans rights at all anymore”
straight people are not allowed to reblog this post.
straight people are not allowed to transfer the contents of their bank accounts into my paypal
- gay guys don’t have to be disgusted by vagina
- lesbians don’t have nightmares after seeing cock
- gay guys can appreaciate beautiful women
- lesbians can appreciate handsome men
- it doesn’t make them less gay
- straight guys can appreciate handsome men
- straight girls can appreciate beautiful women
- it doesn’t make them less straight
-Ace people can appreciate anyone without being attracted to them.