asari viciously and angrily snapping at humans for calling them an all-woman species(✌ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞
asari casually reminding humans that gender is not a construct in their culture(✌ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞
asari being canonically nonbinary and not a species of sexy bisexuals created to be fanservice for straight male gamers(✌ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞
THIS is exactly the kind of shit that shows how engrained racism is in people- there is literally nothing about this picture that points to her being a bad mother. Is it because she has short shorts on? A cami? She’s just a pregnant woman in a convenience store.
You would NEVER see that caption if this were a white woman. And the worst part is that nobody sees anything wrong with this. It has a ton of likes, a ton of people commenting and laughing and making gross comments that I don’t even want to post here.
I am so fucking disgusted right now.
How many white women do you see with their flat asses wearing shorts even shorter than that like I don’t understand why people do this shit. Leave her alone
"She’ll be a great mom."
I guess when it’s 1001 degrees outside, pregnant women are suppose to cover themselves head to toe.
I guarantee you she will be a better mom than those fucked up white ladies who took their kids to target while carrying fucking semiautomatic weapons
Alright, Squid, remember it is not worth the effort to kill every freshman in your English class because of their ignorant, classist and fat-shaming ways. Remember, they are stupid children and it would be more worth your time to properly educate them and point them in the direction of ways of educating themselves. The world would be a better place if you chose to address this calmly and logically and hopefully change some minds. Remember, you are four years older than they are and for many this is their first college class. Consider them to be the godawful teenagers they are and educate them appropriately.
And if they give you lip, shame them into nonexistence. Remember they will ask you for your references. Remember that you not only read a vast number of Tumblr posts with reliable sources (that you have personally verified), but that you also read Science News and that one food magazine that also source their information. And remember to ask them for their sources. If necessary, ask about the validity of the research. How many studies were done? By whom? Was this verified by other scientists working in the same area? Remember if they back off and mutter ‘whatever’ under their breath, you have won. Also remember that staring directly into someone’s eyes is a direct challenge, and if they look away after a staring match they have subconsciously that you are the more dominant.
Be the bitch, Squid. You can do it, I believe in you. Own that classroom full of cocky young males.
Ah. Hello middle school complexes, my old friend.
I’ve come to talk to you again.
About how just because your mother very reasonably pointing out that purple hair goes terribly with the color of your skin and would not match with pretty much anything in your wardrobe, added to the various other warnings she’s given you about how the colorist you were planning on using doesn’t like making people’s hair ‘unnatural’ colors is not a very good reason to call the whole project off. After all, you know very good and well your mother doesn’t care what color your hair is, and agreed that a nice dark blue or the burgundy hair you had for senior prom was or would be a nice look for you. She just also knows about your borderline obsessive fixation on purple, and was warning you against it. There is no reason at all to combine that perceived disapproval with the nervousness you feel whenever you have be mildly confrontational with someone and the anxiety you feel at having a bunch of people who are basically strangers treat you like you’re a good friend so you have to pretend you like them and want to spend time with them even though you don’t know who they are.
(Aside: most people do not entertain thoughts of switching salons because the people there know them by name and greet them like friends, in the same way people do not consider visiting frequenting new bank buildings because the bank employees recognize them and engage in friendly chats with them while doing their banking. Remember, if you push through the awkwardness for long enough, you’ll have a mental script you can run through and it won’t feel or sound nearly as awkward as it is now. Just keep going.)
Basically, this is me informing myself to reach down deep into that place where I keep my stubbornness (okay, maybe not so deep, shut up), set a plan of attack and just make that goddamn appointment already. I am nearly 100% certain it will be worth the hassle I am putting myself through, plus the humiliation of not following through after I’ve already told several people I would is just not worth it for something so silly.
I love being in so much pain I can’t sleep.
Especially when I have to wake up at 5 in the morning so I can work from 6am-3pm at returns.
Now my only question is: should I just stay awake the measly four hours until my alarm goes off, or go back to the unsatisfactory on and off sleeping I have managed tonight?
This shit better work
HAH I REBLOGGED THIS LAST NIGHT AND LOOK WHAT I GOT FROM MY DAD TODAY OUT OF THE BLUE
what if we all got paper lolGUYS I REBLOGGED THIS LAST NIGHT AND I JUST GOT $150
Home Depot, promoting equality by reminding its associates 3 or 4 times annually that the people most likely to steal things are old white men. Or contractors. Who, funnily enough, are usually old white men.
That time of year that will always represent, to me, that a whole cavalcade of kids will be parading down my street, heedless to my haphazard sleeping patterns, decked out in garish and sparkly bikes, oftentimes followed faithfully by a loyal dog, similarly festooned. A neighborhood parade organized by the sweetest, most soft-spoken woman in the area, someone who is so gentle and kind it is quite easy to forget she’s a highly intelligent lawyer. I remember when this first started, just a handful of kids parading down the streets for their neighbors, ending at the elementary school for a a picnic. We have since escalated. We have police officers in patrol cars, we have horses, we have a freaking miniature airplane, and we have the freaking mayor. We have a freaking neighborhood band, catered food, chili contests, water balloon tosses, egg tosses, water gun fights, homemade rootbeer, pet contests, bike contests, speeches. Everyone in the area knows about the 4th of July parade, and looks forward to it. It’s very community-central and camp and pretty much what you expect on the 4th.
Those who know me will affirm to the fact that my mother is a badass. She is a tough, hardcore woman who’s lived through a lot, survived a lot, and built herself the life she always wanted, with nothing more than her bull-headed stubborness and her strength of will. There are some that would say that this kind of affair would be exactly the one she would look at askance, that she would roll her eyes at and make sarcastic comments about. You would not be wrong. But, you would also not take into account the fact that my mother, badass though she is, is also a complete soft touch for certain things, namely animals. We joined the 4th of July parade organizers simply because one year there was a huge, shaggy dog that went right by our house one year, panting its little heart out, and my mother practically ran into the house to fetch it a bowl of water. Of course, this started her down the path of ‘well, what about the other dogs?’ and soon we became known, officially, as the ‘dog water providers’. And because our neighbor, as sweet as is she, is also exceedingly clever, she also managed to get my parents to start the pet judging contest, with them as the judges. And where our parents went, my brother and I were (often gently forced) to follow.
All of this has culminated in my mother, who is now the president of the Home Owner’s Association somehow (it would be more of an honor if the association wasn’t made up of four women and their husbands, or if it had actually involved a vote instead of my mother demanding, in her usual blunt way, if they wanted her to be president and their subsequent immediate agreement), being forced to make a little speech and present a gift to the mayor (she hates being the center of attention), while my father and I judge pets and hand out prizes to every one of them (strictly on my mother’s orders; ‘can you imagine dressing up your beloved pet, entering them in them in the neighborhood pet contest and not have them win something? Now divide your age in half.’) which she bought with her own money, excepting the pet beds, which she asked my aunt to make (since she owns a cat bed/toy business and makes them all herself) while my brother works the flavored ice machine (this sounds easy until you realize you have to grind all the ice by hand. Last year we ended up having a production line) while another table is set up for voting on what should be done with the neighborhood signs, which is being monitored by my aunt (who does not live in the neighborhood).
Why. Why mother, why. This is your fault, mother. Why.
Having now torn apart and more or less slapdashedly put back together every known, secret or forgotten cache of books in the household I, with some dedicated help from my father have; broken and subsequently cleaned up a florescent bulb that shouldn’t have been back there anyway; freed up at least three boxes of books that have been in storage for the past three years; asked my old lady cat at least ten times in increasingly exasperated tones of voice if I could help her-say, out of this plane of existence, maybe; and found every single Orson Scott Card book we own except the one I was looking for, an extremely extraordinary feat, given that I didn’t know more than two existed. All I wanted to do was reread a book I have studiously avoided for just over a decade to wash the taste of the absolutely horrible movie adaption of it. Was that too much to ask?
caring more about animals than humans is not a sign of empathy, it is a way to distance yourself from problems that makes you uncomfortable.
when you talk about the treatment of animals and say “what if this was done to humans!?” remember that this was, or still is done to humans.
I have zero patience for people who prioritize Veganism over anti-racism and feminism
Exactly my stance.