November 10, 2013 at 2:34am
To the little hooligans who set off a bomb inside a pumpkin 30 yards away from my house,
You scared the shit out of me and forced me to acknowledge my neighbors, a few of whom I have described below:
1) A woman who called the fire department, then the police, then went back to her house and asked us to ring her if any of them were cute
2) A man wearing a Golf Wang shirt
3) A girl wearing a sweatshirt expressing her devout love of cats
4) A man who made an inappropriate joke about Russian people (to my Russian neighbors), and would not shut up about Moltov cocktails and Wes Anderson movies.
So, in short, I hope you’re happy you ruined my Saturday night.
this heat is more oppressive than a wealthy white hetero cisboy
Reference humor is the best
because it’s basically a massive inside joke between educated, cultured, interesting people.
i think i should have spent this summer trying to kick my internet addiction
They say admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. “They” are wrong.
A new, weirdly specific racial slur, or a new oddly flavored sandwich cookie?
So Flight of the Conchords and Dave Chappelle and John Mulaney and Kristen Schaal and Demitri Martin are going on a comedy tour (!!!!)
Aaaaaaannnd it’s sold out
June 26, 2013 at 2:02am
Everything is bigger, more sexist, and less democratic in Texas!
Because who needs rights when you have conservatism and cowboy hats?
Oh wait that’s right me and every other fucking minority on the planet.
Also I will just take the reproductive rights and leave the conservatism. And the cowboy hats. No one looks good in cowboy hats.
I am not doing anything of value this summer and I will never go to college
Feeling - thoroughly inadequate
Me: Oh, sorry I was late, I just realized that all the clocks in my house have been running slowly for many years and I think it might actually be detrimental to my health if I change them at this point so.....
June 11, 2013 at 9:02pm
Victoria from Victoria’s Secret’s Secret
And now a word about rape culture:
One thing that particularly bothers me about living in a society where women are blamed for their own sexualization and resulting attacks and violence is the pervasive mindset that a woman’s clothing inherently means something about who she is as an individual or what she is desirous of sexually. Few things frustrate me more than hearing other women try to exonerate rapists or justify their actions by claiming that the victim wouldn’t have been attacked if she was dressed differently. And when I say few things, I mean it - laundry list of petty gripes aside (lady who cut in front of me in the check-out line because you claimed your little rugrat daughter was, “saving your spot,” I’m looking at you).
The reason this argument bothers me is because I have concrete evidence that refutes these claims. I believe that my argument is fairly convincing, if one is willing to concede that most people like cheap things. All one has to do is visit a mall on Black Friday to see that every good American loves a good sale.
This morning, I visited Victoria’s Secret, the mecca of patriarchal sexuality and moderately over-priced undergarments covered in glitter, to scrape through the bargain bins with my fellow capitalists for their semi-annual sale. Nothing much is all that horrible about Victoria’s Secret itself, aside from the posters of impossibly thin women on the walls, but their sister store, Pink, is proverbial the teenage-spring-break-porn-star daughter of the woman who frequents Victoria’s Secret. Still, I’m a sucker for my good friend Clearance, and feel into the trap of buying some of their underwear.
My point here is what I noticed on nearly every pair of panties in the store. Painted in bright neon colors, they boast slogans across the front and back like “too hot” and (ironically) “too cool”, or more dangerously “take me away”, “kiss this”, “eye candy”, “let’s play”, and “unwrap me”. We live in a world where it doesn’t matter what messages women communicate verbally, all it takes is some horrible attacker to undress her an there it is for the world to see, her panties “asking” to kiss her crotch. But the problem is just that - I just may be speaking out of turn here, but I’m going to go out on a limb an guess that most women don’t want randos to “take me away”.
Yes, I did my best to avoid it, but due to the natural American human urge to be a penny-pincher, I couldn’t help but buy some of the underwear. Most I purchased were innocent enough, with zebras and unicorns and shit, but I will admit that one of my favorite styles only came in my size, on sale, with “too cool” on the front. And to summarize the point of this “word” (or 530 words, rather) I am a female, who has some clothes that people will consider promiscuous, borderline “slutty” even, and I DO NOT WANT TO BE RAPED; I AM NOT ASKING FOR IT.
But I do like moderately-overpriced undergarments on sale, and I am too cool. And I guess that’s my Victoria’s Secret.
Also, there was a woman working at Victoria’s Secret whose name was Victoria , and just what the fuck I mean that’s magical like shit they must’ve had to automatically hire her or something.
If I ran the college board
There would be a part at the end of the demographics section of the SAT where one has to check their privilege. For every agent group there would be a 100 point deduction - just to level the playing field a little bit.
Is this a rant about
a) the state of systems of oppression in our society
b) general hatred of the college board
c) none of the above
d) illogical answer you never would’ve learned about anywhere but from an expensive SAT tutor
Answer: both A &B; you’re wrong always because this is the college board and we have a monopoly on your future and life is a fucking nightmare.
sorry i cant hang out with u today i have to catch up on my crying
This actually happened to me yesterday
(Source: thechristmasmovement, via mulaneying)
Things are sweeter when they’re lost. I know—because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly… And when I got it it turned to dust in my hands.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned (via vrban)
Today, my dad’s college friend who was in town from New York came over to visit with his infant daughter. I have seen her once before in my life, at a holiday party earlier in the year. Aside from the usual accelerated growth rate children seem to experience in the early years of their lives, one big thing had changed about her.
The first time I met her, she had twelve toes. Now she has ten.
Apparently, the anomaly runs in their family, and the doctors insisted that she have them removed.
This made me deeply upset with the parents, as well as the doctor, who could only seem to see the detriments to the child’s social life that having 12 toes would inevitably bring. Aside from denying her a potentially lucrative career as a swimmer (and a segue thereafter to national reality TV star/idiot à la Ryan Lochte), they were denying one other thing: evolution.
What is the state of science in this nation when even doctors are willing to look at a kid with twelve toes and assume they need to be removed, instead of allowing the trait to be shown as an advantage and propagate through the gene pool via basic Darwinism. I mean even a creationist should look at this as a gift from God given to this child.
Seriously, this could be the plot of the next X-men: Origins movie and I’m sure her parents will be very sorry then.
Or maybe they’ll be happy because I don’t think that movie did very well. And really, what good would an extra couple of toes do?
What is physics?
This brain will self destruct in