LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING, BUDDY *SLAMS HAND ON TABLE DRAMATICALLY* *slams hand on table AGAIN* *slams BOTH hands on table twice* *claps* *slams hands on table again* *claps* you’re a boy make a big noise playin in the street gonna be a big man some day you got mud on your face you big disgrace kickin your can all over the place SINGING we will we will rock you
i make eye contact with you. never breaking my stare i reach down and pull off my pants to reveal my skeleton legs. the pits of hell open up and swallow you whole. maybe next time u will learn to mind ur own business
a restaurant in my hometown got a review that said the servers should “show some skin” so the owner added a potato skin special to the menu and all the proceeds from the special go to the west virginia foundation for rape information services (x)
“Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.”—
fuck every single time that last line gets quoted without the rest
You can tell a girl she’s smart her whole life, encourage her in school, buy her a chemistry set, send her to math camp, help her apply for college scholarships in STEM fields, and she’s still eventually going to walk into a classroom, a lab, or a job interview and have some man dismiss her existence, deny her funding, pass her over for a promotion, or take credit for her work. How about you work on getting those assholes out of power and quit telling me not to call girls pretty.