Jun
18
Most popular MAC shades by country.
(via chemical-butter)
tarts for tartan
katie. eighteen. american. feminist. tv overwatcher.
follow me and you will see an unpredictable slew of quotes, artsy photos, music, and food.
“this world is fucked up” the white teenage boy says
not because of the constant discrimination of minorities all over the world but because nicki minaj has reached number one
(via thegrandhighbitch)
i made a makeup tutorial for all my fellow feminists out there bye
jfc
watch it
(via chemical-butter)
I want you to
slowly crawl between
my legs
and then
speak your tongue into
me until
all of the
neighbors know your name
(via weshouldgetjackets)
The lovely Leslie Knope and Lil Sebastian (RIP), as requested by angrymuppetface and jansenlee! (by Tyler Feder)
(via sassypantstotherescue)
(via sassypantstotherescue)
(via weshouldgetjackets)
“
A catcall is entirely about reminding you that you are not yours. The purity myth is entirely about reminding you that you are not yours. The fetishization of female purity in a world where catcalls are an acceptable form of communication telegraphs one thing very clearly:
“Women, stop sexualizing yourselves—that’s our job, and you’re taking all the fun out of it.”
The sexualization of women is only appealing if it’s nonconsensual. Otherwise it’s “sluttiness,” and sluttiness is agency and agency is threatening.
”Lindy West, “Female ‘Purity’ is Bullshit” (via albinwonderland)
Well said
(via yelyahwilliams)
(via cat41)
Another hour and a half of work. I don’t know if I’ll make it. I’m not used to working 9 hour shifts like an adult.
(via teachingliteracy)
Why do men think women are angry just on their period?
I’m angry all the time. Get the fuck away from me
(via captaindamnit)
Jun
17
So this is what you do to survive. You buy cheap glass vases and cups at Walmart at 10:30PM with your best friend. You drive as fast as you can all over the city, looking for a deserted place. You park on the side of the road, facing a rocky bluff. You turn on your caution lights, step out of the car, and hurl the glasses and vases and candle holders at the cliff as fast and as hard as you can, the glass shattering on impact and splintering, showering the rocks beneath. You can feel it. You can feel it. You can feel it break like you have. You can feel it piecing you back together. You sign The Chain by Fleetwood Mac as loud as you possibly can on repeat until your voice is hoarse. You almost recognize yourself. This is how you survive.
a series of escalating dares / a ruckus good time
(via thegrandhighbitch)
iv come to dismantle the patriarchy
(via mad-again)
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