the reason I like tumblr is because it’s so easy not to be found here. I don’t have to worry about people from real life being able to find me bc I can hide my blog from search engine results. I can be openly gay here and have a little space to myself to explore my interests and stuff. Social media has always made me really anxious as I’m a naturally reserved person. I’m reluctant to use such widely used sites like Instagram and twitter because I don’t want my family or friends I’m not too close to find me on there ! And also why the fuck do twitter and Instagram make your following and likes public
exactly like these sites DEMAND access to your contacts and phone number and even when you say no they still recommend you to other people based on your phone number and real life proximity to other users. That’s so fucking creepy. I do so miss the old days of the internet where everything wasn’t so connected to your day to day life.
to all the minors following me you dont have to reveal everything about yourself on the internet you dont have to make a laundry list of the MI’s and traumas u have endured be on your about its ok to not make this very extremely personal stuff you wouldnt tell to people you first meet irl easily available on your online web page you really dont owe anything to anyone and you can and should indulge in privacy
I’ve actually emailed Etsy support about this and they literally just told me to read their site rules…
Fuckers.
is wearing any of this shit or having it in our homes going to be called cultural appropriation? because thats the real question
Did you pay actual native americans for it and did your money go back into their communities when you bought something from them? Because that’s not appropriation.
There is a reason this is the last scene in which Okoye appears before the credits roll. It speaks volumes about the power black women possess. Seeing anyone, let alone a black man, submit to a black woman on screen in this way is a rarity.
Gurira thinks the message in that scene is vital for everyone, especially women and girls.
“You expect to use your love for me and our love for each other to actually get me to betray my nation, and I would kill you first. I love that,” she said. “I think women don’t often get to portray that sort of nobility and that sort of integrity, especially [choosing that] over their love.” – Danai Gurira on The Scene™
for a quick change of pace–i know we’ve all seen a thousand posts about voting, but what i haven’t seen (not yet) is one saying thank you.
thank you for those who made it out in the rain and the cold, who organized and canvassed and took on the onerous task of working with non-voting & conservative friends/family to change their stance if at least just this once. thank you for those who stood in line for hours, who had to travel because your voting place was moved, who had to jump through ridiculous fucking hoops to register, who weren’t inspired but showed up anyway for the disenfranchised and the greater good. thank you as well to everyone who voted early, absentee, and provisional.
it mattered.
Thank you also to the people in our suppressed communities who wanted to vote, who tried to vote, who did their best, but had to go back to work or back home to take care of family and couldn’t vote at all. I’m incredibly pissed off and looking to exact revenge on your behalf.
PSA: never put stickers on your helmets (unless you have checked with the manufacturer) because the adhesive can weaken the structure!
One day my health teacher in middle school just like … didn’t show up for class. And so of course we were all “oh if he doesn’t show up in fifteen minutes we’re legally allowed to leave”, giggling about it and all the bullshit. He did eventually show up, ten minutes into the class time. He looked haggard as fuck, sweating all over, hair messed up, beaten to hell and back. We stared at him and were about to ask what in the world happened to him when he stopped in front of his desk and smacked his bicycle helmet down on it.
His helmet had this odd discolored patch on it. Like, white against white, but … weird? It’s then that I realized his helmet didn’t have a discolored patch, it had a patch missing. A big chunk of his helmet had just been shaved away, the curve of the helmet gone and sanded flat by whatever it had been scraped against. And running through that patch, from one side of the helmet to the other, was this big crack, like the whole helmet had split like an eggshell.
Our teacher took a couple deep panting breaths and then told our class: “And this,” he took another deep breath, “is why you always wear your helmet”.
And that’s the story of how an entire class of middle school students took helmet-wearing very seriously for the rest of their lives.
I also want to mention how important riding helmets are. Guys your taking a fall off of a large animal, be safe.
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