chasmofsarcasm:

how to tell if someone is really bisexual:

  • if a true bisexual utters their name backwards, it will send them back to their home dimension for a minimum of 90 days. 
  • fire type bisexuals will always be able to learn the move solarbeam, unless they are flareon. 
  • biologically, bisexuals are incapable of going down stairs.
  • some bisexuals are unable to cast a shadow, though this is currently up for debate

1. Because a woman brought into this world will inevitably be given pepper spray “just in case.”

2. Because by sixteen, a young girl knows how to avoid being sexually assaulted, while a boy of the same age does not fear sexual assault in the slightest.

3. Because a girl who mocks men is a bitch, and a boy who mocks women is joking.

4. Because a girl who has sex is a slut, and a boy who has sex is a man.

5. Because in a murder, the killer is at fault, but the blame of rape is often put on the victim.

6. Because we teach girls how not to get raped instead of teaching anyone simply not to rape.

7. Because a woman should put more clothes on if her outfit makes a man uncomfortable, because his self control is her responsibility.

8. Because feminists just need to chill out.

9. Because a 22 year old sex-obsessed virgin can murder 7 people, and the problem is that someone should’ve just slept with him.

10. Because not all men are predators, but yes, all women are prey.

There’s a fucking womanifesto for you.

(via floralfilm)

swanjolras:

man this has been said before by cleverer folks than me, but sometimes you have to sit down and let the sheer size and age of the storytelling tradition just completely overwhelm you, ja feel?

like— think for a second about how mind-bogglingly incredible it is that we know who osiris is? that somebody just made him up one day, and told stories about him to their kids, and literally thousands and thousands of years later we are still able to go “there was a god whose brother cut him into pieces”, it’s so arbitrary, it’s so incredible

that in talking about scheherazade and her husband, you are doing something that someone in every single generation has done since it was written— you are telling stories that have lasted an impossible amount of time 

can you conceive of telling a story, and then traveling into the future and hearing that same story told— with alterations, and through media that you could not possibly conceive of, but your story— in the year 3214?

the fact that we! as a species! have been telling the same damn stories for so long— the fact that we’ve seen homer’s troy and chaucer’s troy and shakespeare’s troy and troy with fucking brad pitt because we never fucking stop telling stories! never ever ever!

we never stop caring about stories, or returning to the same stories, or putting our own spins on stories. we never stop talking about the characters as if they were real, or asking what happened next, or asking to hear it again.

generation after generation, they never ever ever stop mattering to us.

cracked:

jesseeisemann:

What’d you think? You just get to skip half the game and nobody gets hurt?
Mario Prestige is a shirt over at the Cracked Dispensary, so you can wear your moral dilemma on your sleeve!

Jesse designed one of our favorite shirts AND took it to the next level.

cracked:

jesseeisemann:

What’d you think? You just get to skip half the game and nobody gets hurt?

Mario Prestige is a shirt over at the Cracked Dispensary, so you can wear your moral dilemma on your sleeve!

Jesse designed one of our favorite shirts AND took it to the next level.

tigerhazard:

jamdoughnutmagician:

there is not one search term here that isn’t magical

i know ive reblogged this before at least twice but i decided to read through the entire thing this time and im in pain from how hard i am laughing please forgive me

(Source: neilcicierega)

mothbug:

stayfrostystayfrosty:

mothbug:

primadonna girl 

✿ all i ever wanted was the world 

Is that bow taped onto that snake

I’m pretty sure that’s kind of a fuckin’ bad thing to do

u fuckin serious m8 it was literally a pencil eraser sized boop of double sided tape gently laid on her head so the bow would stay on 

i promise you my twelve foot long, 30-pound burmese python survived a boop of tape to the noggin

When you are 13 years old,
the heat will be turned up too high
and the stars will not be in your favor.
You will hide behind a bookcase
with your family and everything left behind.
You will pour an ocean into a diary.
When they find you, you will be nothing
but a spark above a burning bush,
still, tell them
Despite everything, I really believe people are good at heart.

When you are 14,
a voice will call you to greatness.
When the doubters call you crazy, do not listen.
They don’t know the sound
of their own God’s whisper. Use your armor,
use your sword, use your two good hands.
Do not let their doubting
drown out the sound of your own heartbeat.
You are the Maid of Untamed Patriotism.
Born to lead armies into victory and unite a nation
like a broken heart.

When you are 15, you will be punished
for learning too proudly. A man
will climb onto your school bus and insist
your sisters name you enemy.
When you do not hide,
he will point his gun at your temple
and fire three times. Three years later,
in an ocean of words, with no apologies,
you will stand before the leaders of the world
and tell them your country is burning.

When you are 16 years old,
you will invent science fiction.
The story of a man named Frankenstein
and his creation. Soon after you will learn
that little girls with big ideas are more terrifying
than monsters, but don’t worry.
You will be remembered long after
they have put down their torches.

When you are 17 years old,
you will strike out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig
one right after the other.
Men will be afraid of the lightening
in your fingertips. A few days later
you will be fired from the major leagues
because “Girls are too delicate to play baseball”

You will turn 18 with a baby on your back
leading Lewis and Clark
across North America.

You will turn 18 
and become queen of the Nile.

You will turn 18 
and bring justice to journalism.

You are now 18, standing on the precipice,
trembling before your own greatness.

This is your call to leap.

There will always being those
who say you are too young and delicate
to make anything happen for yourself.
They don’t see the part of you that smolders.
Don’t let their doubting drown out the sound
of your own heartbeat.

You are the first drop of a hurricane.
Your bravery builds beyond you. You are needed
by all the little girls still living in secret,
writing oceans made of monsters and
throwing like lightening.

You don’t need to grow up to find greatness.
You are stronger than the world has ever believed you to be.
The world laid out before you to set on fire.
All you have to do
is burn.