cait @gir4fe - Tumblr Blog

poetic

perrfectly

kiiingocho-deactivated20150531

yeah you cute but you stress me tf out

winterqueenvasya

The Olympics is definitely the time we all look at our parents wondering why they didn’t sign us up for a sport at an early age.

1uvs

grunge-ga

grunge love xx

easilyhumored

All y'all on here who use the metric system in your daily lives are lucky as heck because Pokemon Go is personally targeting me, a God-fearing, patriotic, hardworking American who doesn’t know what the hell a kilometer is

bestofpokemongo

No more pokemon go in class

okay

imanes

y’all: there’s strength in being vulnerable uwu

me: good for u i personally love keeping a distance and not getting my heart shattered every three minutes

still bitter

humoristics

bullletproof-love

Don’t tell your daughter that when a boy is mean or rude to her it’s because he has a crush on her. Don’t teach her that abuse is a sign of love.

comic-canary

My mom always taught me yell or fight back. Boys would be mean and I would yell back. I would get my ass pinched and I would smack them as hard as I could.

Who alway got in trouble? Me.

They would call my mother and she always came in and lectures my teachers and threatened to sue for making her miss work and treating me poorly.

She always taught my brothers to respect women. The only fights my brothers ever got in was defending women from someone else.

The school tried to call my father once instead of my mother on us. He came in in his full preacher outfit (being a preacher and all) and gave them an entire sermon on what would Jesus day of he was called in. They decided dealing with my mom was better.

edmundo-noches-buckley

I think my favorite story of this is when some kid snapped my bra and I turned around, didn’t even think about it, and punched that little motherfucker right in the nose.

So naturally, I end up in the principal’s office, refusing to apologize.

“He shouldn’t have put his hands on me and I wouldn’t have hit him!” That’s the only thing I was saying.

These people had the unfortunate luck of catching my dad at home, instead of my mom. So he comes fucking sauntering in there, like he’s Clint fucking Eastwood in some western movie and looks at me.

“Melissa, did you punch him?”

“Yes.” I said.

“Why?”

“Because he snapped my bra strap.”

And he turns his squinty eyed glare to the principal and says, “You’re telling me my daughter is in trouble because that squirrely looking kid put his hands on her and she chose to defend herself? That’s what you are saying to me.”

“Well, sir-” The man kind of stuttered because my dad is kind of intimidating in the quiet sort of way that kind of whispers in the back of your mind that this person could be dangerous. “Melissa did make it physical.”

“No. That kid put his hands on my daughter. Are you saying my daughter cannot defend herself when some boy decides to put hands on her? Is that what you are teaching my girl?”

I didn’t get suspended that day.