PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Peter Solarz
Kaledo Art
if i look back, i am lost
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dirt enthusiast
noise dept.
Misplaced Lens Cap
Today's Document
I'd rather be in outer space šø
shark vs the universe
Three Goblin Art
Aqua Utopiaļ½ęµ·ć®åŗć§čØę¶ćē“”ć
NASA
ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation
JVL
izzy's playlists!
Acquired Stardust
oozey mess
RMH
seen from United States
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seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from Germany
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seen from United States
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@technicolorlovr
āthe ravenā only its about macklemore. thanks for following my blog
once inside a thrift shop dreary,Ā while i browsed there, weak and weary,
over many aĀ quaint and curious greatcoat of forgotten boreā
while I nodded, puissance sapping, suddenly there came a yapping,
as of some one whitely rapping, rapping at my bargain storeā
āātis some visitor,ā i muttered, ārapping at my bargain storeā
only this and macklemore.ā
Pass this on Tumblr
This is actually pretty important
This needs to be seen more. Rape needs to flat out stop, but until then victims need to know thereās support for them.
SIGNAL BOOST.
i wish birds brought ME presents
No, but think about this.
The crows she feeds obviously have their own little lives. They go about their business, and they spot *pretty thing* or /unique thing/ in question. What gets me is that the *first* thing on their minds as recipient of this thing is the little girl that feeds them.
They spot a thing, and immediately must think, āthat nice girl with delicious foodstuffs must have this to show my gratitude.ā
Itās actually more than that, though, if you read the articles or watch the videos. This has taken place over YEARS- it started with these birds following this little girl around because she was a messy eater and it has turned into a ritual for the family. They have a water station and food stations where they daily set out things for these birds and sometimes (but not always), these birds leave āpaymentā behind for the food.
BUT WAIT THEREāS MORE
These birds are not just taking food and leaving shinies. These birds are watching over this family now. Their lives have become involved. These crows are keeping track of this girl and her mother even when they are out of the yard. How do we know?
One of them is a photographer, and one day while she was photographing some stuff on a bridge, she dropped her cameraās lenscap over the edge. There was no way she could get it back, so she left it. When she got home, the lenscap was sitting on the edge of one of the feeding stations, waiting for her.
Not only were the birds following and watching over her, they were smart enough to realize she dropped an Important Thing and cared enough to bring it back to her.
I could not have asked for more
Glenna June Bellomy Anderson (1926 - 2008). When the cemetery sexton sold Glenna her stone, her request for the inscription on it was āI wasā¦ somebody.ā He said the reason was that Glenna felt that many years after she died no one would probably remember her anyway. By having this inscription on her stone, people would see & remember it. Park Cemetery, Carthage, Missouri. (Source)
that hit me in a way
Did you know anything about hacking before you did this part?
i hate when a more attractive person has a crush on the same person i do
Itās like performing in a talent show and finding out that Beyonce is going on before you
Even in death you cannot respect a woman enough to use her name. How disgusting.
Jesus fucking Christ. She was a real life WARRIOR and the only thing these people value is her physical aesthetic. You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Iām sure neighbors fear for their daughters safety as well.
So this is a totally useless rant, but as a skinny girl, Iām getting extra, extraĀ tired of fat-shaming.
I work for a corsetier at a Renaissance Faire. We sell corsets. Not flimsy bullshit costume corsets; like real, durable, waist-training corsets. Today a woman came in with her boyfriend, so I helped her pick out a corset and try it on. While her boyfriendāwho was decidedly enthused about the whole corset thingāsat watching me lace her in, he told me, grinning, āOf all the good jobs at the Renaissance Faire, I think you have the best.ā
I shrugged in agreement. āI touch butts and reach down cleavage all day; I meanā¦ā Because we like to be a bit rakish at the Faire, and, yāknow, itās true. Tying people into corsets pretty much invariably requires getting handsy.
The couple laughed at that, and the boyfriend said,Ā āThatās the job I would want!ā But then he chuckled again and said, offhand,Ā āOr maybe not; while we were looking at the racks, there were some pretty big sizes on there!ā
Our sizes are all done in inches, and the biggest we make is a 46. And youād better believe our large sizes sell. For a second I wasnāt sure what to say to the guyās comment, but I answered him casually.Ā āWe get a lot of beautiful big ladies in here.ā Because we do.Ā āWe make corsets for real women, not Barbie dolls,ā I added. Wasnāt trying to be smart, just kind of tossed it out there because thatās the line we like to use when people ask about larger sizes, and because, again, we do.
The boyfriend went quiet at that; I didnāt think anything of it, I just kept on lacing. A moment later, he said, a little awkwardly (but sincerely enough), āDidnāt mean to be offensive.ā
I quickly smiled and brushed it off, said he wasnāt, said I was just saying. (Donāt want to make the customers uncomfortable, you know?) And that was the end of it. His comment had rubbed me the wrong way, but it wasnāt a big deal. Now, I wear a 20-inch corset. Iām a few cup sizes short of being one of the Barbie dolls. Like his girlfriend, Iām one of theĀ āhot chicksā; he doesnāt have to worry about offending me by implying that I wouldnāt be fun to poke and pull at.
Honestly though, of all the people I fit sexy technically-undergarments to in a day, fat girls are maybe my favorite people to lace up. Because they are just so damn happy that we have stuff that fits them. They are so damn happy that the corsets we make in their sizes are all the same pretty, shiny colors and cool flower/dragon/skull/etc. prints that the smaller corsets are, not ugly beige and boringĀ āgrannyā colors. They are so goddamn happy that at leastĀ one (of several on the grounds) corset shop carries things that they can wear, that they actually want to wear, and that they look fucking awesome in. This is only my second season working, and weāve fit 60+ inch waists and double-K busts. The only people weāve ever had to tell sorry, we donāt have anything that fits them, are twelve-year-old kids.
Itās half-wonderful, half-heartbreaking how excited those women get. Women who say with sad smiles, when we ask if they want to get fitted,Ā āOh, no, you donāt have anything that fits me,ā and then are stunned when weāre 300% confident that yes we do, and we have options. Women who canāt stop smiling and looking at themselves in the mirror after weāve got them laced in.
I had a lady last week whose waist I measured (cinching the tape tight, as per procedure) at 41 inchesāhonestly not all that big. So she picked out a 41-inch corset to try on. I could tell halfway through getting her laced that it was going to be a bit big for her, so I mentioned it and said she might do better to try a smaller size. She started crying on the spot. She was so overwhelmed; she couldnāt believe someone had just told her that a 41 was too big. She told me about how hard clothes shopping was for her, how her mother would tell her she needed an XXXL instead of an XXL, how she had recently lost weight but still couldnāt wear certain colors because they didnāt fit or she wasnāt confident enough.
She did end up getting her corset, and after I checked her out she asked if she could give me a hug, so we ended up standing there hugging each other for a minute. While we did, I told her,Ā āDo not ever let anyone tell you any bullshit. You are gorgeous.ā She said,Ā āI have a new boyfriend and he keeps telling me that.ā I told her he was right, and to just keep telling herself sheās gorgeous; it was okay if she didnāt always believe it, but to keep telling herself anyway. (Thatās how I talked myself through shit when I had bad anxiety.)
We all know fat-shaming is bad. The stupidity, fatphobia, and misogyny of it has pissed me off since I first became aware of it. But working with clothing, especially as figure-hugging and precise as corsets, has given me a new perspective on itāhow much it affects people and just how shitty it is. Like, what does it sayĀ that I had a grown, only average-big woman crying into my shoulder because she was so overjoyed not to be the uppermost extremity of what a manufacturer can clothe?
My job rocks and itās really rewarding, but sometimes it highlights some of the ugliest shit about society. Iām so glad I work at a shop thatās not bullshit about body types and operates with more people in mind than just scrawny white chicks like me. The fat women I work with are a ton of fun to lace up, and theyāre so much more than their sizeātheyāre cool, theyāre smart, theyāre funny, theyāre sweet, theyāre great to talk to, and yes, theyāre hot. Iām so damn done with them getting short-changed and shamed by petty fucks who refuse to make them nice clothes, who refuse to even try to work for them, who refuse to consider them pretty. This whole rant was useless and wonāt get read, but I had to vent because itās been driving me nuts.
So actually, screw you, random dude. Fat girls are the highlight of my job.
Going to add this bit: Iām overweight. Iām not really big, but Iāve always had issues with my weight and the shit I get from people. I was actually getting fitted for a corset and was told I needed to go down a size. So I understand how that girl felt. I know that itās ājust a numberā and it shouldnāt bother me, but that made me feel awesome.
I read every word of this and it made me want to cry and buy a corset.
This. This this this this this!
things english speakers know, but donāt know we know.
WOAH WHAT?
Family gathering.
MOOOOOM, AUNT CAROL IS HEEEEEERE
Aunt Carol is fucking ripped.
reblog if you love aunt carol
EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR AMERICAS FAVORITE FIGHTING FRENCHMAN
I once tried to explain depression to someone as like if one day you gradually started to lose both your sense of taste and your ability to feel full. And you donāt know why, but now everything you eat tastes like mashed potatoes and nothing you eat is satisfying. You keep eating because you must eat to live, but the effort that it takes to prepare food is taxing and there is no pay off. You just know it will taste like mashed potatoes. You just know you will still be hungry. So you stop bothering with seasonings. Then you stop bothering to use ingredients you used to like. Then you start to wonder what the point of eating is because there is no payoff. You still feel hungry and youāre sick of the taste and you donāt know if you will ever enjoy food again and you donāt know why this is happening.
If someone comes up to you in this scenario and says,Ā āWell have you tried spicing your food? Using different ingredients? Eating foods you used to love?ā It isnāt necessarily helpful because the reason you stopped doing all that in the first place is that everythingā¦tastedā¦like mashedā¦potatoes.
This. Completely this.
Slow. Clap. http://ift.tt/1euhu0D
favorite linguist joke and i will never not reblog it
still fave
if i ever get another chinchilla i will name him vinny the chin after the former mafia crime boss who once held me as a baby
ok i might not have been directly in the arms of vinny the chin himself now that i think about it but basically what happened is that my mom had been following his trials when it was going on back in the late 90ā²s and like. she was on this flight that also fuckin happened to be transporting this mob boss to his next trial so like there were a bunch of mafia people on this plane with him and my mother was like āholy shit, itās vinny the chinā and she literally started?? talking to these mafia guys. and she had to run to the bathroom and for some reason was like ācan you watch my kid for me for a secondā so my mom left me with the mafia. and she kind of? didnāt think about it? and realized fully what she had done as she was washing her hands so she like runs back out and i was fine. they were playing with me and i was laughing. i think it made the news. anyway thatās the story of how baby me enamored a bunch of mobsters
my mom found the article AND the boarding pass from that specific plane tripā¦ i didnāt realize he was literally on his way to prisonā¦ iām cryingā¦ anyway, this is the proof behind the text post. iām the baby
The largest stop-motion puppet ever created. #KuboMovie in cinemas Sept 9.
