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@ezz-the-spooplord
i’ve had a realization and i’m sure it’s been done before but-
millennial depression:
vs
gen z depression:
that weird group of teens who were born 1999-2003 all experienced millennial depression around age 12 and then currently experience gen z depression
I mean you right
Yeah
hey can we talk about how so many people are depressed nowadays that’s not good right
wнαт тнe ғυcĸ ιѕ тнιѕ?
Elmo’s voice saying “I’ll fuck u up” is the best and worst thing ever
YO I SWEAR THIS SHIT IS TOO FUNNY😭🤣
I grew up in the 1960s on the West Side of Chicago. My mother died when I was six months old. She was only 16 and I never learned what it was that she died from - my grandmother, who drank more than most, couldn’t tell me later on.
It was my grandmother that took care of me. And she wasn’t a bad person - in fact she had a side to her that was so wonderful. She read to me, baked me stuff and cooked the best sweet potatoes. She just had this drinking problem. She would bring drinking partners home from the bar and after she got intoxicated and passed out these men would do things to me. It started when I was four or five years old and it became a regular occurrence. I’m certain my grandmother didn’t know anything about it.
She worked as a domestic in the suburbs. It took her two hours to get to work and two hours to get home. So I was a latch-key kid - I wore a key around my neck and I would take myself to kindergarten and let myself back in at the end of the day. And the molesters knew about that, and they took advantage of it.
I would watch women with big glamorous hair and sparkly dresses standing on the street outside our house. I had no idea what they were up to; I just thought they were shiny. As a little girl, all I ever wanted was to be shiny.
One day I asked my grandmother what the women were doing and she said, “Those women take their panties off and men give them money.” And I remember saying to myself, “I’ll probably do that” because men had already been taking my panties off.
To look back now, I dealt with it all amazingly well. Alone in that house, I had imaginary friends to keep me company that I would sing and dance around with - an imaginary Elvis Presley, an imaginary Diana Ross and the Supremes. I think that helped me deal with things.
Even though I was a smart kid, I disconnected from school. Going into the 1970s, I became the kind of girl who didn’t know how to say “no” - if the little boys in the community told me that they liked me or treated me nice, they could basically have their way with me. By the time I was 14, I’d had two children with boys in the community, two baby girls. My grandmother started to say that I needed to bring in some money to pay for these kids, because there was no food in the house, we had nothing.
So, one evening - it was actually Good Friday - I went along to the corner of Division Street and Clark Street and stood in front of the Mark Twain hotel. I was wearing a two-piece dress costing $3.99, cheap plastic shoes, and some orange lipstick which I thought might make me look older.
I was 14 years old and I cried through everything. But I did it. I didn’t like it, but the five men who dated me that night showed me what to do. They knew I was young and it was almost as if they were excited by it.
I made $400 but I didn’t get a cab home that night. I went home by train and I gave most of that money to my grandmother, who didn’t ask me where it came from.
The following weekend I returned to Division and Clark, and it seemed like my grandmother was happy when I brought the money home.
But the third time I went down there, a couple of guys pistol-whipped me and put me in the trunk of their car. They had approached me before because I was, as they called it, “unrepresented” on the street. All I knew was the light in the trunk of the car and then the faces of these two guys with their pistol. First they took me to a cornfield out in the middle of nowhere and raped me. Then they took me to a hotel room and locked me in the closet. That’s the kind of thing pimps will do to break a girl’s spirits. They kept me in there for a long time. I was begging them to let me out because I was hungry, but they would only allow me out of the closet if I agreed to work for them.
They pimped me for a while, six months or so. I wasn’t able to go home. I tried to get away but they caught me, and when they caught me they hurt me so bad. Later on, I was trafficked by other men. The physical abuse was horrible, but the real abuse was the mental abuse - the things they would say that would just stick and which you could never get from under.
Pimps are very good at torture, they’re very good at manipulation. Some of them will do things like wake you in the middle of the night with a gun to your head. Others will pretend that they value you, and you feel like, “I’m Cinderella, and here comes my Prince Charming”. They seem so sweet and so charming and they tell you: “You just have to do this one thing for me and then you’ll get to the good part.” And you think, “My life has already been so hard, what’s a little bit more?” But you never ever do get to the good part.
When people describe prostitution as being something that is glamorous, elegant, like in the story of Pretty Woman, well that doesn’t come close to it. A prostitute might sleep with five strangers a day. Across a year, that’s more than 1,800 men she’s having sexual intercourse or oral sex with. These are not relationships, no one’s bringing me any flowers here, trust me on that. They’re using my body like a toilet.
And the johns - the clients - are violent. I’ve been shot five times, stabbed 13 times. I don’t know why those men attacked me, all I know is that society made it comfortable for them to do so. They brought their anger or whatever it was and they decided to wreak havoc on a prostitute, knowing I couldn’t go to the police and if I did I wouldn’t be taken seriously. I actually count myself very lucky. I knew some beautiful girls who were murdered out there on the streets.
I prostituted for 14 or 15 years before I did any drugs. But after a while, after you’ve turned as many tricks as you can, after you’ve been strangled, after someone’s put a knife to your throat or someone’s put a pillow over your head, you need something to put a bit of courage in your system.
I was a prostitute for 25 years, and in all that time I never once saw a way out. But on 1 April 1997, when I was nearly 40 years old, a customer threw me out of his car. My dress got caught in the door and he dragged me six blocks along the ground, tearing all the skin off my face and the side of my body.
I went to the County Hospital in Chicago and they immediately took me to the emergency room. Because of the condition I was in, they called in a police officer, who looked me over and said: “Oh I know her. She’s just a hooker. She probably beat some guy and took his money and got what she deserved.” And I could hear the nurse laughing along with him. They pushed me out into the waiting room as if I wasn’t worth anything, as if I didn’t deserve the services of the emergency room after all.
And it was at that moment, while I was waiting for the next shift to start and for someone to attend to my injuries, that I began to think about everything that had happened in my life. Up until that point I had always had some idea of what to do, where to go, how to pick myself up again. Suddenly it was like I had run out of bright ideas.
A doctor came and took care of me and she asked me to go and see social services in the hospital. What I knew about social services was they were anything but social. But they gave me a bus pass to go to a place called Genesis House, which was run by an awesome Englishwoman named Edwina Gateley, who became a great hero and mentor for me. She helped me turn my life around. It was a safe house, and I had everything that I needed there. I didn’t have to worry about paying for clothes, food, getting a job. They told me to take my time and stay as long as I needed - and I stayed almost two years. My face healed, my soul healed. I got Brenda back.
Usually, when a woman gets out of prostitution, she doesn’t want to talk about it. What man will accept her as a wife? What person will hire her in their employment? And to begin with, after I left Genesis House, that was me too. I just wanted to get a job, pay my taxes and be like everybody else. But I started to do some volunteering with sex workers and to help a university researcher with her fieldwork. After a while I realised that nobody was helping these young ladies. Nobody was going back and saying, “That’s who I was, that’s where I was. This is who I am now. You can change too, you can heal too.” So in 2008, together with Stephanie Daniels-Wilson, we founded the Dreamcatcher Foundation.
A dreamcatcher is a Native American object that you hang near a child’s cot. It is supposed to chase away children’s nightmares. That’s what we want to do - we want to chase away those bad dreams, those bad things that happen to young girls and women. The recent documentary film Dreamcatcher, directed by Kim Longinotto, showed the work that we do. We meet up with women who are still working on the street and we tell them, “There is a way out, we’re ready to help you when you’re ready to be helped.” We try to get through that brainwashing that says, “You’re born to do this, there’s nothing else for you.“
I also run after-school clubs with young girls who are exactly like I was in the 1970s. I can tell as soon as I meet a girl if she is in danger, but there is no fixed pattern. You might have one girl who’s quiet and introverted and doesn’t make eye contact. Then there might be another who’s loud and obnoxious and always getting in trouble. They’re both suffering abuse at home but they’re dealing with it in different ways - the only thing they have in common is that they are not going to talk about it. But in time they understand that I have been through what they’re going through, and then they talk to me about it.
People say different things about prostitution. Some people think that it would actually help sex workers more if it were decriminalized. I think it’s true to say that every woman has her own story. It may be OK for this girl, who is paying her way through law school, but not for this girl, who was molested as a child, who never knew she had another choice, who was just trying to get money to eat.
But let me say this too. However the situation starts off for a girl, that’s not how the situation will end up. It might look OK now, the girl in law school might say she only has high-end clients that come to her through an agency, that she doesn’t work on the streets but arranges to meet people in hotel rooms, but the first time that someone hurts her, that’s when she really sees her situation for what it is. You always get that crazy guy slipping through and he has three or four guys behind him, and they force their way into your room and gang rape you, and take your phone and all your money. And suddenly you have no means to make a living and you’re beaten up too. That is the reality of prostitution.
Three years ago, I became the first woman in the state of Illinois to have her convictions for prostitution wiped from her record. It was after a new law was brought in, following lobbying from the Chicago Alliance Against Sexual Exploitation, a group that seeks to shift the criminal burden away from the victims of sexual trafficking. Women who have been tortured, manipulated and brainwashed should be treated as survivors, not criminals.
So I am here to tell you - there is life after so much damage, there is life after so much trauma. There is life after people have told you that you are nothing, that you are worthless and that you will never amount to anything. There is life - and I’m not just talking about a little bit of life. There is a lot of life.
i have seen this post many many times on my dash, and yet it only has 2200 notes…. it makes me think that the only friends of prostitution survivors are radical feminists. no one else will listen.
Nobody called me but I showed up anyway.
What the hell even is the this post
theres this chinese girl in my class who isnt very fluent in english and she asked me if i have a boyfriend and i was like “i dont. i dont like. boys” and she nodded very wisely and went “ah. cooties”
SHE IS WISE
one tectonic plate approaching another
“so are you a top or a bottom?”
two tops? you get a mountain. two bottoms? VALLEY BRO
i don’t know anything about geology
Are you (Mg,Fe2+)2(Mg,Fe2+)5Si8O22(OH)2?
I had to google that and i swear to fuck I will kill you
alright this is fine
I studied Geology for 2 years and I can assure you this is exactly what it was like
YOU HAVE ENTERED
RADICAL SATURDAY
Today’s Friday, though.
if u weren’t aware of salvation army’s homophobia, its prety hardcore
a guy in a salvos truck yelled at me and my gf while we were kissing today so I was thinking of this
Do you know, when I was in high-school I went to the mall near my house with my girlfriend to do some Christmas shopping.
We were there, sixteen year old me and seventeen year old her, holding hands and window-shopping, minding our own business.
This Salvation Army shitheel gets aggro about it in the middle of the mall and I’m there totally flabbergasted cause like, it’s christmas
Only, 16!Tabi had even less composure than 26!Tabi, so I lost my fucking mind on her.
Thing is: when I’m really angry, I don’t rage, I go all cold and apparently that freaks people out, because I could see my gf backing up and the lady getting tense and then I realized that anger doesn’t solve problems.
So instead, I started wailing.
Picture this: 5’4, tiny, blonde haired high school girl with her little violin on her back and pearls in her ears just as PTA-approved as could be, full on sobbing in the hallway.
Just, sobbing like my dog’s been shot.
Now my gf’s like, “oh fuck” and the lady’s like “oh fuuuuck!” and I’m here, head thrown back, tears down my cheeks and in that shrill, distressed, /loud/ voice, “WHY WOULD YOU B-b-be so MEAN?! It’s CHRISTMAS!”
And the lady’s like “please stop Oh fuck” because now we have a crowd, and this Molly Weasley of a woman putters over, “what’s the matter, dear?”
And mall security’s coming and this bell ringer is looking very uncomfortable so I just look at this matronly ellen-watching suburban housewife lady, eyes wide and wet and my lip wobbling.
“I was, she s-said, s-s-she said I was going to HELL!”
And I burst right back into tears.
Maaaaaaaan, they didn’t even stick around to ask why she’d said it. Soon as I said it, Mall po-po bounced her like a fucking pogo stick.
We get outside and my girlfriend’s like “that is the most Slytherin thing I have ever seen anyone do.”
It was four years before I saw the Army back in that mall.
that is beautiful
Holiday reminder: don’t let anyone get away with trying to make you feel bad about yourself.
They are also violently transphobic, and Salvation Army ran homeless shelter refused to let in Jennifer Gale because she was trans, leading to her freezing to death on the sidewalk right outside it!
So yeah, they’re not just ‘homophobic’, they’re bigoted fucking murderers.
(Wikipedia article on her death conveniently (for SA) omits Salvation Army connection, linking only to expired articles from local newspapers)
SA claims that they didn’t turn her away, and accept all homeless people, except, it’s not like Jennifer Gale was only trans woman refused shelter by Salvation Army, making this denial appear to be worth less than bullshit:
https://thinkprogress.org/salvation-army-refuses-housing-shelter-to-transgender-woman-2660c79b4cd4#.bo53qrxf9
http://www.msnbc.com/way-too-early/transgender-woman-claims-she-was-refused-housing
and to think i was gonna help my aunt with this…
Annual reminder not to trust what our SA donations actually support.
There are plenty of other charities who help out the needy this time of year. Support a local food bank or community housing center.
THIS IS SO IMPORTANT I’ve told ppl this but now I have sources
Salvation Army are scum. Judgemental assholes.
And let’s all remember that one twitter thread from a homeless woman in a Salvation Army shelter SPECIFICALLY warning people that the SA is a piece of shit and nobody should donate to them
fuck my mom was like “its fine its not like everyone who works there is homophobic”
this is awful. please spread around, it’s important.
The Salvation Army has been disgusting for a long while
I reblogging this now, as a reminder that this is unacceptable REGARDLESS of the time of year.
^^^^^^
hello salvation army Die
Hi Salvation army can Die :)
Annual reminder that the Starvation Army can go fuck itself
comfy
FISH NO
..but comfy
FISH PLEASE YOU COULD GET HURT
s
sleeby….
Put those fucking sticks down
My wife and I were were talking the other day and, I don’t remember what we were even talking about, but the idea came up that we would need an oreo for. I joked about getting one from my secret stash. This is where she made her mistake. She said “oh right, like you could have an Oreo stash without me knowing about it.”
I’m sorry?
That’s a challenge.
Oreos aquired.
I’m going to hide them in a super simple place at first
But be sure to follow this post while I chronicle all the ways and places I hide them and also how I plan on taunting her with cookies while she can’t find the package
She is out of the house for a moment so it’s time to enjoy a few cookies
And find a new hiding spot
Hehehe
They up there
Normally I’m a Oreos with milk kinda guy, but I’ll take coffee if coffee is available
Now to hide them right under her nose
She never looks under the TV for anything. Tonight when we are watching Halloween Wars I’ll have a big dopey grin on my face
Time to up the stakes. It was fun having em here and hiding them around her while she didn’t know what was happening. Bit now it’s time for her to be in on the game she is playing
Four cookies packed in her lunch. Game on
I’ve been cleaning house today and feeling like I’ve done a pretty good job. Time to reward myself with some delicious Oreos
Aaaaand put them where she would never find them in a million years
:)
Got up early this morning and helped pack everyone’s lunch. Pulling a damn Oprah over here
You get some cookies! You get some cookies! Everyone gets cookies!
Then a devious idea struck me…
I put the remaining Oreos in a baggie to hide by themselves. Now to “hide” the package where it will probably be found…
And pin the actual stash to the inside of the closet wall
If you two weren’t already married I’d beg you to marry her because you two are obviously perfect for each other and I love this post with all my heart
This guy’s dopey grin at his success at hiding oreos is exactly what I’m here for
You like that eh? Well you are going to love today’s installment
Look at that. So sad. So few Oreos left
Guess I’ll just pin em right to the middle of the wall in the middle of the living room. She’ll never find em there
Oh, guess I should put this back up
Bwa ha ha ha! You guys! You guys don’t understand! I was planning on doing this and when I got home and looked at it I was like “aww, it’s too thin. They won’t fit.” I even TOLD my wife this and how I was disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to hide them back there.
But then I looked again. They dooooo
Thank you all so much for the love. I knew y'all would like this, but I had no idea you would like it THIS MUCH. People calling us “goals” and stuff… Man…. It’s kinda hard to take in ya know? Anyways: if this post gets Over 9000™ before I get off work today I will pick up Halloween Oreos on my way home and this will not stop
And, as promised, a dopey grin
Twasnt easy to get the stupid video to load. But I got it and I recommend giving it a watch here: http://keepcalmandcarrieunderwood.tumblr.com/post/179330357103
She is so happy that the Oreo Saga continues. Just look at how happy she is
Came home to find this
But she never looked inside the blue chair
Good stuff, but it’s time for some cookies
Gotta have some while I think about where these guys are going next
Hmmmmm
Got it.
Ohmygosh oh. my. gosh. You guys. Near disaster. Check this shiz out:
Wife and I were sewing Elly’s Halloween costume up
Yea, she is going to be a spider and it’s super cute and all but. But. Loooook
Holy actual shit the Oreos fell out from the table literally next to her.
The moment she got up I threw them into the closet
Also:shout out to whoever it was that lost a follower for this post
Sry bout that eh.
This is glorious and I’m so damn happy this is still going.
My god I need to see where else they are hidden. You are a genius sir
Oh they’re going to need salvation.
Not just making it illegal, but making being gay punishable with death.
This is one of the many reasons why I walk by every single red bucket in the run-up to Christmas. They’re not getting my money, I don’t care how nice the people ringing bells are.
Ever since the time they threatened to close all their soup kitchens in NYC if a law that did something as simple as allow companies to extend spousal benefits to their employee’s same-sex domestic partners I have refused to buy from them or donate to them.
It’s that time of year again! In case people don’t know… the Salvation Army is shitty peoples.
Also, the married women are not paid (and therefore can’t qualify for assistance if they should ever divorce, etc). And worth “of course” less than a man.
“ In the Army’s case, the agreement for compensation is that the officer allowance be paid jointly to the husband—the check is written in his name. Officially, the wife is a “worker without expectation of remuneration,” and her husband receives 40 percent more of an allowance as a married man than he would as a single man. “
source
hey since that season is coming up again!
Don’t abuse the bell ringers unless they get aggressive, but don’t give them a bent penny.
ashe ripped mccree’s arm off when his response to her coming out to the deadlock gang as a lesbian was “i thought you were american” send post
ehmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm I LOVE BOB OK DONT JUDGE
The “friend zone” and unrequited love are not the same thing. Unrequited love is, “I love you, you don’t love me in that same way, I am sad about that.” The “friend zone” is, “I love you, you don’t love me in that same way, you have therefore wronged me.”
Unrequited love is, “My unilateral crush is my problem.” The “friend zone” is, “My unilateral crush is your problem.”
Again for the ones in the back
Louder.
Unrequited Love is sad. The friendzone is creepy.
The year is 2022. You and your gang shoot down Amazon delivery drones and sell their contents for a living.
This isn’t fiction. This is going to be my career. @writing-prompt-s wanna start a gang?
I am down. What’s our gang name?
^
Amazon Crime is looking for members. Comment your expertise and explain how it could revolutionise our operations.
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
HIRED!
Hired!
Hired!
HIRED!
HIRED!
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
Hired!
We need a logo!
My hand slipped
I promise I will look after each and every member and that we split the loot evenly
07/23/83
WHAT???? I NEED CONTEXT
Dude there are 6 Garfield strips that explain Garfield is actually an abandoned cat dying alone of starvation in an apartment and all the food and friends are in their head.
UR JOKING
What the fuck
Incorrect. Jim Davis has gone on record saying that the Halloween strips were a nightmare. This is also supported by OUR Garfield being canonically Garfield’s overall 8th Life.
As told in “Garfield: His 9 Lives”, Garfiled was born behind an Italian Resturant, was caught eating the Lasagna, was placed in the same pet shop as Odie (Who was established as being Garfield’s eternal rival through all his lives), and was adopted by Jon. Garfield will live long enough to see his GrandKittens.
Also, as for Garfield’s amazing powers that you constantly see here and elsewhere?
That’s what God looks like at the beginning of “Garfield: His 9 Lives”.
Garfield is, canonically, an Avatar of God.
Garfield is an eldritch being, pass it on!
no really what the fuck
I always love seeing people react to how insane the Garfield canon is.
what. What. WHAT. WHHHAAAAAAATTTT?!?!
Costume. Chitons.
Marjorie & C. H. B.Quennell, Everyday Things in Archaic Greece (London: B. T. Batsford, 1931).
Wait, wait…. Is that seriously it? How their clothes go?
that genuinely is it
yeah hey whats up bout to put some fucking giant sheets on my body
lets bring back sheetwares
also chlamys:
and exomis:
trust the ancients to make a fashion statement out of straight cloth and nothing but pins
Wrap Yourself In Blankets, Call It a Day
Wear blanket. Conquer world.
That last one looks dope
the chlamys is more of a dick-almost-out look
