COMMENCE PANTALOON INITIATION SEQUENCE

vastderp:

sapphicnymph:

vastderp:

sapphicnymph:

leaving Laverne Cox off of the Time top 100 despite the overwhelming support she received is an act of violence and erasure towards trans women

I remember the first time a drunken mob chased me down the street and cornered me in an alley. They stood there laughing, blocking my exit. I begged them not to say the words, but then one of them stepped forward, celebrity magazine in hand, and raised it mockingly before my tear-streaked face. “You’re not on this list!” he mocked, and dropped the magazine behind him as he led the mob away, high-fiving his companions and laughing.

I sobbed into the concrete. Nothing could feel more brutalized than I did at that moment. To this day I can still hear the sound of those awful rustling pages, the pages I’m not in, the thud of the magazine being dropped. It’s like I will live the rest of my life trying to leave that dark time behind, that awful, awful night when I wasn’t one of the top 100 people of Time Magazine.

Libertarian / Anti-Vaxxer / Pro-Life / Vegan / Advocate for Men’s Rights against Female Tyranny / Crystal Healer / Magjyick User/ Transethnic White Pride Brony / Ageist Gaslighting Survivor / TransCisgender Buttqueen / CARAB / White Tear Vampire / He-Man Woman Hater / Cultural Deappropriator / Suicide Truth Bomber / Proud Fictive / Princex of the Breatharian Nation / Darwin Award Winner (1996-Present) / Japanophile / ToonRomantic / Multiple System / Tulpa Orgy Coordinator”

trollin’ hard or hardly trollin’ there, bud?

[violence intensifies]

guys it’s happening again

a cis woman has climbed into my living room and is rearranging my furniture for my own good

help

krudman:

pepple shud stop complenin because zelda knows magic an’ smesh bros isn’t rel-listic.

bogleech:

I think I’ve said this exact thing before but it’s so freaking weird that we put breasts on so many alien creatures and anthropomorphic animals because the two prominent boobs are something totally unique to humans.

That’s like if we were chicken people and gave all our fictional beings cock’s combs. Even robots and cartoon bugs and shit.

Or maybe if we were turtle people and our version of Star Trek assumed a vast majority of alien races would have turtle shells cause that’s just so normal to us and marketing executives assume nobody will buy a game or watch a movie where the characters don’t have turtle shells.

Walrus pop culture where everything has tusks.

Termite people giving all their female characters huge colossal pulsating abdomens even if they’re cats or fish or humans.

Proboscis monkey pop culture where anything designated “male” has a big dangly fat nose to make it sexier.

depraved-heart-murder:

appropriately-inappropriate:

dykeprivilege:

jessicabeachgirl:

seethestarsablaze:

heyimrudeacid:

lesbii-cool:

*starts a fire in my kitchen*

*starts fire in my bedroom*

Omfg. Um. Hello there.

*Starts a fire in my pants!!!*

*gets trapped in lift*

The best part is that there’s a fairly decent chance, given the background of the photo (dry wilderness and scrub brush) that the firefighter in this picture is a Hotshot—
And Hotshots, along with Smoke-Jumpers, are sort of like… Okay. If firefighters are rockstars, Hot-Shots are Queen and Smoke-Jumpers are whatever Tony Stark uses to rev himself up for badassery.
Hotshots are elite firefighters who train extensively and are inserted into high-risk terrain in order to fight the fire on the ground. In layman’s terms—if there’s a forest fire threatening your house, the hotshots are the dudes digging the fire trenches while whirling beams of fire snap give feet from them.
And then, then, there’s the Smoke-Jumpers. As their name implies, they jump smoke. In layman’s terms—the fires the hotshots can’t reach by land? Those crazy fuckera PARACHUTE into forest fires.
Because jumping out of a plane isn’t scary enough, they do it in near-zero visibility, through scorching smoke, with the risk that the thermals and currents could blow them right into a burning tree, to pick a landing spot so they can then be in remote backwoods wilderness with minimal hope of rescue if something goes tits up.
So yeah. If this lady’s an urban firefighter she’s a huge badass. But if my guess is right and she’s a more elite unit, then I want to have her gay babies like, yesterday.

Whoa.

depraved-heart-murder:

appropriately-inappropriate:

dykeprivilege:

jessicabeachgirl:

seethestarsablaze:

heyimrudeacid:

lesbii-cool:

*starts a fire in my kitchen*

*starts fire in my bedroom*

Omfg. Um. Hello there.

*Starts a fire in my pants!!!*

*gets trapped in lift*

The best part is that there’s a fairly decent chance, given the background of the photo (dry wilderness and scrub brush) that the firefighter in this picture is a Hotshot—

And Hotshots, along with Smoke-Jumpers, are sort of like… Okay. If firefighters are rockstars, Hot-Shots are Queen and Smoke-Jumpers are whatever Tony Stark uses to rev himself up for badassery.

Hotshots are elite firefighters who train extensively and are inserted into high-risk terrain in order to fight the fire on the ground.
In layman’s terms—if there’s a forest fire threatening your house, the hotshots are the dudes digging the fire trenches while whirling beams of fire snap give feet from them.

And then, then, there’s the Smoke-Jumpers. As their name implies, they jump smoke.
In layman’s terms—the fires the hotshots can’t reach by land? Those crazy fuckera PARACHUTE into forest fires.

Because jumping out of a plane isn’t scary enough, they do it in near-zero visibility, through scorching smoke, with the risk that the thermals and currents could blow them right into a burning tree, to pick a landing spot so they can then be in remote backwoods wilderness with minimal hope of rescue if something goes tits up.

So yeah. If this lady’s an urban firefighter she’s a huge badass. But if my guess is right and she’s a more elite unit, then I want to have her gay babies like, yesterday.

Whoa.

More on Harry Potter and the Methods Of Utter Contempt For The Source Material

vastderp:


Ron and Draco are two perfect examples of why the Methods of Rationality is a shitty fanfic that doesn’t work. Canon Ron is an insecure, self-loathing doofus who constantly compares himself to others and finds himself wanting and suffers poverty, and he’s the heart of Harry Potter. He’s the carrier of its optimism, and a great example of a flawed human being capable of pettiness and goodness. Ron is the power of supposedly un-exceptional people. And he’s essentially thrown away as worthless to the story.

Draco is meant to be a spoiled bully who gradually becomes a victim of a much bigger evil and represents the weakness and the hard choices of people who follow and support monsters. Through him, we see how people can get themselves into trouble and wind up doing terrible things, yet they are still human beings with feelings, who deserve to be treated as human, and who can choose to do better, even if they are assholes. In MoR he’s flanderized into a rape-obsessed cartoon before he’s even hit puberty. It’s fucking nasty.

That he could throw these two characters and what they represent aside and still think he’s writing an honest response to Harry Potter tells me everything I need to know.

walking a little is not the same as walking

fogwithwheels:

what I mean by this is that being able to walk a little, being able to walk with consequences, that’s not the same as being able to walk (the end)

When people are denied wheelchairs because they can walk, an important thing is missed.

They can’t walk

yes, they can physically walk.  That’s not what I mean.

What I mean is,

Can they walk to the store and back?  Can they do so safely?  Can they do so and still have energy left for the day?  For the week?

Can they walk at home?  yes?  Ok, but does doing so leave them with enough energy to leave?  To go to school, work, out with friends, on errands?  Is it safe?

Can they walk long enough to go places, enjoy things, to do what they could do if they had mobility aids?  

Yes, being able to walk, even a little, is different than not being able to walk at all.  

But it’s not the same as being able to walk, without consequences, without fear of safety, for “long distances”

So when you deny someone mobility aids because they can still walk, because you want them to still walk, you’re missing something.

If they’re asking for mobility aids, their mobility is already limited.  They’re already not walking as often because they can’t.  Mobility aids won’t change that.  But they can actually improve mobility, and allow for more opportunities to go out and be active.  

ivyxaur:

fackinggluke:

ivyxaur:

I FUCKING SAW THIS AT WAL MART I CANT FUCKIGN TAKE IT IM STILL LAUHGING FU CK

not funny tho….

congratulations. by reblogging this post with 41 thousand notes and commenting “not funny tho…”, you have successfully turned the tides of history. everybody is looking down solemnly at their computer keyboards, as millions of ants pour out of their fingernails. this post is no longer funny. the world has stopped spinning. a child cries as its parents turn into 4 foot tall spiders. a mother robin devours her young, the sun itself turning into a “no fun allowed” sign. are you proud of how much you’ve done. are you proud of your impact on society and the future of the world. your head dislocates from your body, your mouth devouring yourself inside out until you cease to exist. there is nothing. it is now funny. a chorus of screaming laughter erupts from the void.

ivyxaur:

fackinggluke:

ivyxaur:

I FUCKING SAW THIS AT WAL MART I CANT FUCKIGN TAKE IT IM STILL LAUHGING FU CK

not funny tho….

congratulations. by reblogging this post with 41 thousand notes and commenting “not funny tho…”, you have successfully turned the tides of history. everybody is looking down solemnly at their computer keyboards, as millions of ants pour out of their fingernails. this post is no longer funny. the world has stopped spinning. a child cries as its parents turn into 4 foot tall spiders. a mother robin devours her young, the sun itself turning into a “no fun allowed” sign. are you proud of how much you’ve done. are you proud of your impact on society and the future of the world. your head dislocates from your body, your mouth devouring yourself inside out until you cease to exist. there is nothing. it is now funny. a chorus of screaming laughter erupts from the void.

daftchameleon:

what if spaceships were made of living flesh

and dinosaur bones were just the remains of flesh spaceships

mercurialmalcontent:

There’s nothing like hearing a skinny person talking about problems that direly need to be solved who lists obesity right alongside with global conflict to make me stop being interested in anything they have to say.