Me: Really wants a romantic relationship
Me: Never develops strong feelings for anyone
Me:

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@twothirtyfouram-blog
Me: Really wants a romantic relationship
Me: Never develops strong feelings for anyone
Me:
WHOM'ST
Y’AIN’T’D’VE
THOU’M’STN’T’VE
moon: full
titties: out
Source Click HERE to Follow the Ultrafacts Blog!
ALICE ROOSEVELT WAS HARDCORE. “She was known as a rule-breaker in an era when women were under great pressure to conform. The American public noticed many of her exploits. She smoked cigarettes in public, swore at officials, rode in cars with men, stayed out late partying, kept a pet snake named Emily Spinach (Emily as in her spinster aunt and Spinach for its green color) in the White House, and was seen placing bets with a bookie.
So what I’m reading here is, she was a Roosevelt?
Well I have a new hero.
Her whole wikipedia article is gold
“When her father was governor of New York, he and his wife proposed that Alice attend a conservative school for girls in New York City. Pulling out all the stops, Alice wrote, ‘If you send me I will humiliate you. I will do something that will shame you. I tell you I will.’”
“Her father took office in 1901 following the assassination of President William McKinley, Jr. in Buffalo (an event that she greeted with “sheer rapture.”)“
“During the cruise to Japan, Alice jumped into the ship’s pool fully clothed, and coaxed a congressman to join her in the water. (Years later Bobby Kennedy would chide her about the incident, saying it was outrageous for the time, to which the by-then-octogenarian Alice replied that it would only have been outrageous had she removed her clothes.”
“She was dressed in a blue wedding dress and dramatically cut the wedding cake with a sword (borrowed from a military aide attending the reception)”
“When it came time for the Roosevelt family to move out of the White House, Alice buried a Voodoo doll of the new First Lady, Nellie Taft, in the front yard.”
“Later, the Taft White House banned her from her former residence—the first but not the last administration to do so. During Woodrow Wilson’s administration (from which she was banned in 1916 for a bawdy joke at Wilson’s expense)…”
“As an example of her attitudes on race, in 1965 her African-American chauffeur and one of her best friends, Turner, was driving Alice to an appointment. During the trip, he pulled out in front of a taxi, and the driver got out and demanded to know of him, “What do you think you’re doing, you black bastard?” Turner took the insult calmly, but Alice did not and told the taxi driver, “He’s taking me to my destination, you white son of a bitch!”
“To Senator Joseph McCarthy, who had jokingly remarked at a party “Here’s my blind date. I am going to call you Alice”, she sarcastically said “Senator McCarthy, you are not going to call me Alice. The trashman and the policeman on my block call me Alice, but you may not.”
I love this woman.
WOMEN WHO NEED FUCKEN MOVIES.
This is Alice as an older lady. The pillow says “If you can’t say something good about someone, sit right here by me.”
She is my absolute favorite.
This is great! I’d love a film about her.
people: omg how are you single????
me *internally*: because i have deeply rooted emotional issues and a debilitating fear that im not good enough for anything
me: guess I just haven’t caught my fiSH yet! haha reel one in for me if you find one, sharon!!
Don’t ever fall in love with me. I will learn how to do origami just so I can make you a swan every morning and lay it gently on your forehead so when you wake up and roll over you crush it and feel bad that you did that. Don’t ever fall in love with me.
It sounds like I did something against their will in the middle of the night, as if I crept into their brain and pushed the gay button, then did an evil laugh and left them to fend for themselves - newly gay and alone in the world.
Ruby Rose (via real-lesbian-thoughts)
I can’t believe they oblitered straight men like that
an old bayou witch once told me there is only one way to unbreak your own heart, and it is cruel, bloody; it leaves you scared in a subtle way that allows you to pretend you are unscathed you gotta break another heart for every piece of yours that is scraping around in your chest like broken glass, oh, and this heartbreak left you shattered hundreds of tiny fragments echo around like a poor soul saying ‘please don’t go’ but you have to learn to leave if you ever wanna be whole the boy next door, the cashier at 7/11 your older brother’s friend and then your older brother’s girlfriend; tell them you love them and walk away without looking back repeat it again and again, until you are numb and nothing hurts and your heart is whole and your heart is harder than stone
how to unbreak a heart || O.L. (via poetbitesback)
thank you baby, for the hole in my side
I just couldn’t be around her it was like stepping into a cold shower my body rejected her like she was the frigid water contorting so as not to touch her
she’d step forward and I’d step forward and that should’ve meant we were walking towards each other
but it didn’t it meant that this was a duel and we had to be ten paces apart before she could shoot and she’d never shoot
oh baby, please just shoot let me despise you even just for a few seconds please it’s not fair to let this go on please-
but I was wrong I stuck my hands in the hole in my side they both fit, it was brand new and gaping
then everything was cold a trickling cold like stepping into a cold, cold shower
I tell him, if you love me, you need to stop reading the poems. I tell him, if you read them, you will find a version of me you hate. I tell him, if you want a future with me, you will stop reading the poems. Because the girl in the poems is kerosene dreams and ink stained scars and whiskey flavoured fury, and the girl he is in love with is cotton candy soft and summer dresses and vodka laughter. I tell him, he can’t have both because he doesn’t want both, no one wants a girl whose lungs are smoke black rage even if her heart is made of tissue silk. Girls who are both are too volatile, too painful to love. So I keep her, the ink stained, angry girl inside a prison of paper and pen. I feed her memory, I feed her sadness, so I can keep the girl he loves alive. There is witchcraft here, a kind of witchcraft every hunted woman practices when she finds love. She magicks parts of herself away to protect the one she loves. This is why they say that love is the end of all woman, the way war is the death of men. So I tell him, please, if you love me as I am, stop reading the poems. And he says, his voice gentle, his voice wine rich smooth, I will not. Because I refuse to love you, unless you let me love you whole, all the broken things inside you that make you so soft.
Nikita Gill, In Which I Finally Find A Good Man (via meanwhilepoetry)
You know what I find funny? That there was a point in time where you had a best friend and you literally told them everything and now they don’t even text you to see if you’re okay or even text you period. It’s just weird how time changes things.
hope everyone’s titties are out on this good thursday
gets out, tits out
in seventh grade i liked a girl. she had blonde hair and hazel eyes and i found it hard to breathe every time she stood near me. now, i wasn’t the only person to like this girl. she was the most sought after girl in our grade, the one every guy would kill to call his. they tripped over each other trying to ask her out, even though it was common knowledge she had a steady boyfriend in the year below. she had to reject boys practically every other day. it would break my heart every time i witnessed the fallout when things got ugly. boys would call her a bitch, a slut, a cunt. once her nudes were even leaked, and half the school turned against her. i was different. not once did i ask her out or flirt with her. half the time i didn’t dare let my eyes linger on her for too long. for a while, i pondered this. why it was common behaviour for boys to abuse girls who didn’t like them, while girls who liked girls were wrong for liking them in the first place. one day it came to me, and it felt like a punch in the chest: boys who like girls feel they have the right to own them. girls who like girls feel they don’t even have the right to look at them.
(via sapphichollstein)
damn
Schrödinger’s boys
FUCK
What about cracking open a cold milkshake
As we all know, the milkshake brings the boys to the yard. The presence of the boys is a prerequisite for the cracking open of a cold one, but cold ones do not have any inherent boy-attracting abilities. Milkshakes, however, do. All else being equal, the boys would proceed to the milkshake yard. While it is possible to announce the presence of cold ones in the hope of attracting some boys, the pull of the milkshake is much more powerful by comparison.
mind you, all of this nonsense hinges on whether or not the boys are back in town
you would not believe your titties
if ten million owl cities