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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
sassyxalien
misswallflower

'Camera Obscura' - Katrin Thormann by Koto Bolofo for Numero #177 

Source: misswallflower

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readingaroundthemovies
brotoro brotoro

the military begins recruiting ‘soldiers’ before they grow out of their booster seat

four year olds have toy guns and green army men

by grade school you’ve memorized the star spangled banner and the pledge of allegiance

in middle school you’re old enough to play first person shooters set in war times. you and your friends brag about how many kills you have, what guns are your favorite

in high school, rotc comes to visit. you get letters in the mail detailing scholarship and housing opportunities you could have

and if you’re poor or unsure of your future or in love with the idea of ‘protecting your country’ like the men in call of duty

every branch of the military has a sponsored blog on here because they want everyone 13 and up to know that soldiers are heroes and they should join them

maliwanhellfires maliwanhellfires

To those of you who were wondering, this is a very US-specific post. What gets done to you guys is terrifying, and it’s really unfair.

robot-tiddies robot-tiddies

Ah yes I remember how the different military branches visited my high school at multiple times throughout the year and set up their little pull up bars and had little competitions and the strong little ones got lanyards so the recruiters could pick them out

rebelliousllama rebelliousllama

I dont even know if you’re joking or not

you-arrogant-dick you-arrogant-dick

The pull up bars are a thing. We always had that each year at my high school. They gave out backpacks and stuff too. 

hippie-nerd

They set up tables where you can get “free” basketballs and shit by just giving them all of your contact information: phone number, email, address, full name, etc. The tables were always by the doors that went out to the school buses… you couldn’t leave the building without them trying to talk to you.

Source: lesbianhaircut
my-fit-fandom-life
nickjonasnipples nickjonasnipples

me before work: i hate work i would honestly rather die than set foot in that building even just the idea of working makes my stomach churn FUCK working FUCK my boss FUCK the customers and mostly FUCK capitalism

me at work: honestly? this isn’t bad! i’m just doing my thing! making some money! it’s not like i would be doing anything constructive at home anyway! i love working! 

me after work:  that was the worst day of my whole entire life i wish i was dead FUCK working FUCK my boss FUCK the customers and mostly FUCK capitalism

coral

I.

The first time your heart was torn from your chest,
You thought you were dying.
You knew you could not live with the empty space.
So you replaced your heart with metaphors
And set out to create a world where the metaphor was unbreakable.

Now look what you’ve done—
You can’t breathe so you write.
You can’t hurt so you drink rum and pour our pirate chanties.
You can’t want revenge so you leave.

II.

When I see you I have two thoughts:
You are the reason The Smith’s wrote songs,
And my god, you are beautiful.

You are so beautiful
Blinking stars go blind.

But I can see this is going to get ugly.
The metaphors don’t make you feel whole anymore.
You sell out your deepest insecurities for a handful of laughs.
This life has you wound so tight you make grandfather clocks look relaxed.
You hold your body like banks hold money—all locked up.
Your shoulders are glass rocks waiting for the next attack.

But you’ve got it all wrong.

You don’t survive history.
History survives you.

There is no breakthrough without breakdown.

III.

If you’re going to break, shatter.
No explanations.
No limp-legged dog excuses.
No messing with this bullet proof vest fury
So popular with the cops and the presidents.

You’ve got to break like Texas.
You’ve got to take the pain from the safety valve of your heart
And return it to your fists.
Fight your better judgment ‘till you’re sinister again,
‘till your body remembers what it already knows how to do—
bend back
and manifest grief.
Scream torches ‘till you embarrass the enlightened.

Please. No more polite conversations with your death wish.
Give it something useful to do.
Change your life.

Cause I can’t stand to see you like this.
So blue, my eyes turn green in your presence.
Listen—you are so beautiful,
Grass pushes through sidewalk cracks just to kiss your feet.

IV.

Maybe no one ever told you,
But the heart IS a metaphor.
Yours is growing so strong
You’ll have your rhythm back any day now—

Loving like rumours spread.
Dreaming like lunatic spacemen jump from their suits.
Living like you never forgot how.

Mindy Nettifee, “The First Time” (via feellng)
gosh

I.

The first time your heart was torn from your chest,
You thought you were dying.
You knew you could not live with the empty space.
So you replaced your heart with metaphors
And set out to create a world where the metaphor was unbreakable.

Now look what you’ve done—
You can’t breathe so you write.
You can’t hurt so you drink rum and pour our pirate chanties.
You can’t want revenge so you leave.

II.

When I see you I have two thoughts:
You are the reason The Smith’s wrote songs,
And my god, you are beautiful.

You are so beautiful
Blinking stars go blind.

But I can see this is going to get ugly.
The metaphors don’t make you feel whole anymore.
You sell out your deepest insecurities for a handful of laughs.
This life has you wound so tight you make grandfather clocks look relaxed.
You hold your body like banks hold money—all locked up.
Your shoulders are glass rocks waiting for the next attack.

But you’ve got it all wrong.

You don’t survive history.
History survives you.

There is no breakthrough without breakdown.

III.

If you’re going to break, shatter.
No explanations.
No limp-legged dog excuses.
No messing with this bullet proof vest fury
So popular with the cops and the presidents.

You’ve got to break like Texas.
You’ve got to take the pain from the safety valve of your heart
And return it to your fists.
Fight your better judgment ‘till you’re sinister again,
‘till your body remembers what it already knows how to do—
bend back
and manifest grief.
Scream torches ‘till you embarrass the enlightened.

Please. No more polite conversations with your death wish.
Give it something useful to do.
Change your life.

Cause I can’t stand to see you like this.
So blue, my eyes turn green in your presence.
Listen—you are so beautiful,
Grass pushes through sidewalk cracks just to kiss your feet.

IV.

Maybe no one ever told you,
But the heart IS a metaphor.
Yours is growing so strong
You’ll have your rhythm back any day now—

Loving like rumours spread.
Dreaming like lunatic spacemen jump from their suits.
Living like you never forgot how.

Mindy Nettifee, “The First Time” (via feellng)
Source: coral
elisalynn22
fagvomit

once in 5th grade my mom bought me this set of like 200 glitter pens because I had mentioned that everyone at school was obsessed with them but I didn’t really care for them so the next day I brought them to class and kids started offering to buy them so I sold them for $3 each and I made almost $500 and then I got sent to the principals office and was told I couldn’t sell them anymore like sorry that I was a natural born entrepreneur

winnieportleyrind winnieportleyrind

When I was a freshman in High School our Junior/Senior classes were like 90% stoner kids. When you’re a junior/senior, you can leave the school for lunch if you want, so the majority of the kids would go hot box their cars in an abandoned parking lot a few blocks over during lunch hour.

However, since they needed time to air out, they always got back after the kitchen stopped selling lunch, and they, of course, had the mega munchies.

I started selling kids homemade baked goods at outrageous prices, but I’m a great baker so nobody complained. I was making 25 bucks for 4 muffins, and 8 dollars a brownie.

I made like 2 grand before the school made me stop selling food because it wasn’t a “school official bake sale.” but my regulars would slip me cash + orders in the hallways when we passed each other, and there was nothing in school policy about giving away food, so I would just bring them their snacks the next day. The school couldn’t touch me, I was rolling in dough, and rolling out dough, all freshman year.

Find your loopholes, kids.

Source: fagvomit
brownsugarandspicedreams
paganpirate

To all the sex workers out there (and here too)

Don’t take this the wrong way.

I totally support your decision to do that. It’s fun, it pays (at least some of) the bills, and it’s great being able to set your own schedule. Two thumbs up for being your own boss!

But sometimes, I don’t want to have to pay just to interact with you as a person.

Sometimes it’s ok to just be a regular person, and chat with people, without the end goal of selling sex talk/pics/vids etc.

I understand that you have to be careful, especially in this day and age.

I get that you may have been scammed or hurt in the past.

But I’m not that person.

So please, drop the Billy Mays ‘but wait, if you act now I’ll throw in X’ thing if I message you. It’s not great to have high pressure salespeople coming at you all the time irl, why should it be any different online?

It’s not about money. If I want your pics or videos, I’ll buy them no problem. I’ll tell you if I intend to contact you as a client.

It’s about making new friends and connections, even if they never lead to a relationship or sex.

rookiemmistake rookiemmistake

Then why are you trying to contact women who are sex workers.

You’re asking that we take time out of our day to befriend you, a man on the internet we don’t know, who has pursued us through the public image of our sex work.

If you’re pursing a sex worker as a friend, I’m guessing it’s because you like them as a person. But let me give you some news, buddy. You have absolutely no idea who she is. Sex Workers make up their name, their back story, their personality, all of it to please men. The woman you’re trying to befriend? You don’t know her at all. And she’s not going to take time out of her day to tell it all to you, to expose that information to some random internet dude who doesn’t know how to make friends in his own time.

Let me ask you this: do say this to retail workers? “Look, I know that I came into your store and you want me to buy something, but I just want a connection with you!” Do you get overwhelmed by the pressure of a coffee barista asking you your order as you stand at her counter?

What I’m hearing is: you don’t care that a woman is trying to utilize her time by making a living. You want to be entitled to that time. You demand that time, which is not yours and was never offered to you.

I get men like you at the club and online all the time. You want me stay a little longer, just to hang out. You want my number to chat and get to know me. But what you don’t realize is that my time is already dominated by what men want. My entire job revolves around men getting what they want and taking my energy, space, and emotional/physical labor. And now you want my private time too? You think you’re also entitled to a sex workers off time? You, a random strange man on the internet?

We don’t want to be friends with you. We HAVE friends. And I garuntee you, no sex worker wants a new male friend who only found her because of her nude page.

Take your entitlement, pack it up, and take it to tinder. We aren’t here to offer you friendship, we are here to make money to pay our bills and feed our families.

It’s about valuing a sex workers time and energy, even if it doesn’t end in the fantasy of friendship you’re seeking.

Keep your whiny ass out of the sex worker tag.

succubus-stripper succubus-stripper

There’s plenty of weirdos who post their nudes for free why can’t he go talk to those people??

angel0009 angel0009

men w this mindset are an embarrassment to society

bossyprada

this post gave me hives

Source: paganpirate
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