So yeah, this is my blog.
I'm Brandon, 18 and I'm in college betch. Often times I'll probably be ranting about life, other times I'll just be reblogging what I love.
Ask me anything
Here are some awesome and empowering quotes from several very strong female celebrities.
If only all men were like this.
If men were all like this the world population rate would be so slow
There are guys like this you’re just too busy putting them in the fucking friend zone to see that
reblog for the comment
Oh hell no you better listen the fuck up dickwads
I was about to go to sleep and then this bullshit showed up on my dash and you have all earned yourselves fedoras so sit down, shut up, and educate your stupid asses.
“Putting them in the friendzone”? I’m sorry did you mean “I was nice to a girl and I cared about her and I’m bitter because she didn’t want me back?” Or was it “I believe that if I love another person they’re a bitch for just wanting to be friends.” Perhaps it was “I treated her (or pretended to, rather) like a person instead of a sexual object and now she’s not being a sexual object for me like I deserve.” No, wait, it’s “friendship with a girl makes me angry because I’m a self-entitled shithead who feels like if I want to be with a girl she has to accept that regardless of her feelings or else she’s a total bitch.”
The friendzone is the concept that a girl wanting to be your friend is somehow this inherently awful thing. Like, wow, did it occur to you that she thought you were, I dunno, FRIENDS? Did it occur to you that maybe she doesn’t feel romantically towards you but she still wants you to be part of her life because she thinks you’re a great person? I mean, if this is your reaction you’re wrong, because if you think friendzoning is a thing then clearly you’re a fucktrumpet but that’s beside the point.
Women are not machines you put niceness coins into until sex comes out. There are no punchcards to fill out to get to sex that you are apparently entitled to.
There is no friendzone, there are only people who don’t know how to behave like they’re not five-year-olds who don’t know how to take “no” for an answer.
Now I’m going to sleep. Disrespectful misogynistic asswagons.
Wow. Fucktrumpet, Asswagons? You are amazing at swearing. Like seriously amazing.
Women are not machines you put niceness coins into until sex comes out.
HOLY FUCK I LOVE YOUeveryone better read that long amazing comment!!!!!!!
First of all, fuck the guys who think that an appropriate response to a friend not wanting to be in a relationship is to ignore them, because how does that make sense. However, it’s kinda hard to not want to be in a relationship with your pals because 1) You know them 2) their interests align with yours 3) you’ve been socialized to believe that the perfect one is inevitably that girl who’s always been a friend of yours. So I hate male privilege, I’m aware that this sounds like it’s coming from male privilege but I just want to make it clear that there are guys who want girls who are friends and ONLY want that. It’s just easier to try and go for a relationship with a friend you know than some random stranger. There are some people with penises that don’t view women as purely sex objects and no that doesn’t mean we deserve acknowledgement but please don’t essentialize the males.
What alcohol says about you.
I’ve heard that some of you people like this thing called Les Miserables.
There are more of us than you think, kicking off our high-heeled shoes to run and being told not so fast
The best minds of my generation consumed by craving, furious half naked starving-
Who ripped tights and dripping make up smoked alone in bedsits bare mattresses waiting for transfiguration.
Who ran half dressed out of department stores yelling that we didn’t want to be good and beautiful
Who glowing high and hopeful were the last to leave the gig our skin crackling with lust and sweat and pure music
Who wrote poetry on each other’s arms and cared more about fucking than being fuckable
Who worked until our backs stiffened and our limbs sang with the memory of misbehaviour that was what it was to be a woman
Who dared to dance until dawn and were drugged and raped by men in clean T-shirts and woke up scared and sore to be told it was our fault
Who swallowed bosses’ patronizing side-eyes stole away from violent broken boys in the middle of the night and vowed never again to try to fix the world one man at a time
Who slammed down the tray of drinks and tore off our aprons and aching smiles and went scowling out into the streets looking for change
Who stripped in dark rooms for strangers’ anodyne dollars because we wanted education and were told we were traitors
Who sat faces upturned to the glow of the network searching searching for strangers who would call us pretty
Who bared our breasts to hidden cameras and fought and fought and fought to be human
Who waited in grim hallways with synth-pop crackling over the speaker system for the doctor to call us clutching fistfuls of pamphlets calling us sluts whores murderers
Who crossed continents alone with knapsacks full of books bare limbs clear-eyed vision running running from the homes that held our mothers down
Who filled notebooks with gibberish philosophy and scraps of stories and cameras to prove we were there keeping our novels and the name of out children close to our hearts
Who were told all our lives that we were too loud too tisky too fat too ugly too scruffy too selfish too much too and refused to take up less space refused to be still refused refused refused to be tame
Who would never be still. Who would never shut up. Who were punished for it and spat and snarled and they shook the bars of our cages until they snapped and they called us wild and crazy and we laughed with mouths open hearts open hands open and would never not ever be tame.
Sara, I’m with you in hospital, in the narroe rooms where you have put off your veil to count your ribs through your T-shirt, short hair and secrets and quiet defiance crying together that we don’t know how to be perfect-
Lara, I’m with you in mandatory art therapy, where we draw pictures of weeping cocks and are told we are not making progress-
Lila, I’m with you in a north London bathdroom, watchhing unreal maggots crawl in the cuts in your arms and listening to your girlfriend drunk and raging through the wall-
Andy, I’m with you in Bethnal Green where you love ambitious angry women with heart brain pen fingers tongue and you have a line from Nietzche tattooed over your cunt-
Adele, I’m with you in the student occupation, with your lipstick and cloche hat and teenage lisp drawling that there’s not enough fucking in this revolution and we must take action-
Kay, I’m with you on the night bus, half drunk and high dragging bright-eyed boys home to our bed, where we watch them worn out sleeping and whisper that we will never be married-
Katie, I’m with you in Zuccotti Park, where a broken heart is less important than a broken laptop is less important than a broken future and we watch the cops beating kids bloody on the pavement for daring to ask for more-
Tara, I’m with you in Islington where you have thrown all your pretty dresses out of the window and flushed your medication so you can write and write-
Alex, I’m with you and a bottle of Scotch at two in the morning when you tell me that no man will make us live for ever and we must seduce the city the country the world-
We are always hungry.
There are more of us than you think.”
so you say he can dance to anything
im laughing so hard why are people reblogging this again omg
help tumblr has reached singularity
i love this post
Welcome to the post that got me kicked out of the library
how diD I KNOW
People being angry about ~dem gays~ on Target’s Facebook.
I just want to give my two cents on this and tell you a story.
A couple weeks ago, I was hired at Target. I have a job at Target. Not a big deal right?
It is a big deal because i’m a transman.
It doesn’t take a genius to conclude that it’s hard for me, my brothers, and sisters to get a job. There are legal restraints regarding the job and if you don’t pass, it’s hard to be taken seriously at a job interview.
Right on the application, it asks what your preferred name is. It also asks if there is anything that target should know. I put the fact that I am a transman, expecting not to get a call because usually when you put that down, people will throw out the application. I got TWO interviews.
At the interview, they asked me about it. I told them I am on hormones and they told me that they didn’t care. Not in the sense that they don’t emotionally care, but that it didn’t matter. I was male and that’s all that mattered. They also told me that they give sex same couples benefits in states that do not recognize them as a married couple.
At my job orientation, I was not misgendered once. Even my supervisors who weren’t sure of my gender avoided pronoun use, which I found only happens when you’ve had pronoun training. They gave me a name tag with my preferred name and didn’t ask questions. I felt safe and respected, which is huge for a trans* person.
TLDR: Target is amazing not just for the LGB, but also the T. Shop there for the rest of your life.