I am a woman, and I am brown…everything I want to be or do in my life is going to be three times as hard to accomplish. Even my child runs the risk of dying at birth because I am not white, even though I have a college education.
studies that are done on african americans are in fact full of shit because they are almost always conducted by middle aged men who have no idea what it means to be black.
the majority of people who are incarcerated are overwhelmingly people of color yet white males commit more crimes (in regards to heavy drugs)
when counties noticed this and tried to decrease the population disparity by changing policies, they did research and out of 1000 people (mostly older rich white men) only 300 bothered to return the survey material…and out of those 300 people almost all of them where deemed to be racist. They also found that if man A committed the same crime as man B but A was white and B was black, B would receive a harsher sentence while man A was almost defended in a since that he received treatment instead of jail because he was going through issues, or he was raised in an unstable environment etc etc.
I think at the the of my first semester at USC I feel more motivated to change things but at the same time I feel so defeated.
that I would totally survive in a horror film. unless it was something fast cause ya’ll know I’m a big girl so running is not my thing. BUT anyways, last night I realized that I would probably be the first to go because when I got home from my boyfriend’s house my sister comes in telling me that one of the dogs is going nuts and will not come out from the garage.
so I go outside, in the cold pouring rain and we are all standing there like what the hell is in the garage. We finally get the dog to come out but there is still movement in the garage and sam says ‘maybe it’s a person’ and i’m like no way who the fuck is like let me live in this random garage. So i grab a broom (…out of all things) and i’m like you guys i’m just going to go in. so I start walking into the garage when I hear movement and then growling. a deep menacing growl. which leads to us googling ‘do possums growl’ which then leads to us googling ’ do (insert every animal ever here) growl. Finally after an hour of standing outside, throwing empty beer bottles, shoes, whatever we could find (including a full bottle of baby oil gel, RIP) we all decide ok fuck this lets just open up the garage door. So on the count of three we each stand in front of the door and open it…and it is a fucking possum.
I didn’t know those bitches could growl like that! I’ve heard them hiss and make some high pitched noise but never growl!
There are a lot of possums here. One time while at work, we hear someone start screaming and so we are all running trying to figure out where it is coming from (I work in mental health so screaming is usually not a good thing) and a nurse bursts into the hallway from the bathroom screaming her head off. possums fell right at her feet from a vent in the ceiling. I thought it was hilarious. ok bye
ATTENTION ALL GIRLS AND LADIES: if you walk from home, school, office or anywhere and you are alone and you come across a little boy crying holding a piece of paper with an address on it, DO NOT TAKE HIM THERE! take him straight to the police station for this is the new 'gang' way of rape. The incident is getting worse. Warn your families. Reblog this so this message can get accross to everyone.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says ‘No, you are beautiful.’
I wonder why I cannot be both.
He kisses me
My college theater professor once told me
that despite my talent,
I would never be cast as a romantic lead.
We do plays that involve singing animals
and children with the ability to fly,
but apparently no one
has enough willing suspension of disbelief
to go with anyone loving a fat girl.
I daydream regularly
about fucking my boyfriend vigorously on his front lawn.
On the mornings I do not feel pretty,
while he is still asleep,
I sit on the floor and check the pockets of his skinny jeans for motive,
for a punchline,
for other girls’ phone numbers.
When we hold hands in public,
I wonder if he notices the looks —
like he is handling a parade balloon on a crowded sidewalk;
if he notices that my hands are now made of rope.
Dear Cosmo: Fuck you.
I will not take sex tips from you
on how to please a man you think I do not deserve.
He tells me he loves me with the lights on.
I can cup his hip bone in my hand,
feel his ribs without pressing very hard at all.
He does not believe me when I tell him he is beautiful.
Sometimes I fear the day he does will be the day he leaves.
The cute hipster girl at the coffee shop
assumes we are just friends
and flirts over the counter.
I spend the next two weeks
mentally replacing myself with her
in all of our photographs.
When I admit this to him
we spend the evening taking new photos together.
He will not let me delete a single one of them.
The phrase “Big girls need love too” can die in a fire.
Fucking me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
Finding me beautiful is not a novelty.
I am not a fucking novelty.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says, ‘No. You are so much more’,
and kisses me
“Pour some water into a tub and stir it up. Now try as hard as you can to calm the water with your hands; you will succeed in agitating it further. Let it stand undisturbed a while, and it will calm down by itself. The human brain works much the same way.”—Tohei (via establishedin81)
It’s hilarious that non-Americans on Tumblr are all like “OMG DENNY’S TUMBLR MAKES ME WISH I LIVED IN AMERICA SO I COULD EAT THERE,” while us Americans will literally only eat at Dennys if it’s 3 in the morning and we’ve lost control of our life.
You don’t go to Denny’s. You end up at Denny’s.
This is God’s honest truth
In undergrad we would go to Dennys for unlimited coffee during finals