this some summer reading. the title had me hook, line and sinker.
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How Kat does Olympic theme.
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eush:Defense mechanisms
- Lady selling rosaries: Would you like to buy a rosary?
- Me: No, thank you.
- LSR: Oh come now, surely a good Catholic—
- Me: Sorry, but I'm not Catholic.
- LSR: (turns away and hurries off)
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Yo, That's kinda messed up how my white best friend can't call me brother. I trust the dude with my life, why would he be racist for calling me brother? Is it racist if I call him and consider him my brother? 100% being honest.
Anonymous
YO, YOU AND YOUR FRIEND “CAN” CALL EACH OTHER WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT, THERE IS LITERALLY NO ONE STOPPING YOU, PARTICULARLY NOT SOME FOOL YOU NEVER MET WHO JUST YELLS ON THE INTERNET.
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Up Next: The popular and wacky fan art of Stephanie Cutter, Deputy Campaign Manager at Obama for America.
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I've noticed that only racists use the phrase "politically correct". Non racists instead use the phrase "not racist".
Anonymous
Boom, that is 100% correct.
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Thanks to the extremely spotty Wi-Fi on Amtrak, I can tell you guys the story of me getting on this crowded ass train, searching for a seat. I spot one, next to a bro-type dude. He’s in the aisle seat. “excuse me, is anyone sitting there,” I ask. He gets up to let me sit, but I can tell he’s not happy about it. He’s quite tall and muscular, so I mean, I guess I get why he wasn’t stoked to sit next to a behemoth such as myself. Anyway, I’m sitting there for all of 3 minutes when this dude takes a picture of me, well of us. I guess he planned to text or blog or Facebook the photo to illustrate the injustice of him having to sit next to a fat person and, even worse, having our thighs touching. I mean, the horror of it all.
“Do you have a problem with me sitting here?”
“uh, well…. ” White boy was not feeling me.
So instead of having to hear his passive aggressive huffing and puffing and being the subject of those “look at this fatty” photos you see all over the Internet, I got up and found another seat.
“You said it, not me,” he says when I ask to get up, as if the only way to express a sentiment is by saying it explicitly. I know shade when I see shade, dicknose.
Why did I even get up? What a bitch move. I should have made him REALLY suffer. Spread my legs wide. Put my arm in his lap. Breath heavily and open-mouthed into his space. Sweated on him. Dropped food crumbs on him. The full ” fat person next to me” experience. Instead I got up and almost cried when I finally found a seat. Are you disappointed in me?
So if you see a photo of a fat lady in a pink and beige striped sweater engulfing a poor innocent white guy in a teal tshirt, take a few seconds to laugh, then tell me where you saw it. I’d at least like to know when my Internet shames are.
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hugginangryfeminist reblogged shadowbabies:Why Sansa Stark is a Strong Woman (TM):
A rage post, brought to you by an enraged eighteen (almost nineteen!) year old feminist who goes to a liberal arts school in Virginia and gets pissy when people tag their hate and/or leave Sansa off their lists of “strong women.”
- Let’s take a look at bb girl’s early life: she was raised in a relatively secluded area, where her parents and septa were her main influences. Her mother raised her to be a perfect lady and her septa never broke her delusions of grandeur or of southron court life. So, she believes in songs and stories and true knights and fair maidens and kind, gentle princes because that is what she was taught, and had never come across anything different from that.
- The story opens, and Sansa is eleven. What were you doing at eleven? What did you believe in? What horrors had you been exposed to? Were you already aware of the deep flaws, complexities, and corruption in your national government? Did you know all the main political players and the people and corporations who controlled them? No? Yeah, neither did Sansa. Because she was a child. Just like you were waving your flag all up on Flag Day and lining up in the Library of Congress to smear your sticky fingers all over the Declaration of Independence, Sansa is mad excited to go to King’s Landing and meet some important people and wear some pretty dresses. Because she is a child.
- She’s offered the opportunity to marry Joffrey, who is lying to her face and courting her and acting like her kind, gentle prince. WHO THE FUCK WOULD SAY NO TO BEING A PRINCESS WHEN YOU’RE ELEVEN? NO ONE. THAT’S WHO.
- Whence she is thrown into a shitty situation, being manipulated by a multitude of people while being completely unaware of this massive conspiracy that would essentially cause something of a small revolution. AND SHE STILL FUCKING HANDLES HERSELF LIKE A PRO.
- But she’s a child—she makes mistakes, she trusts the wrong people. AGAIN, EVALUATE YOUR LIFE AT ELEVEN. Please tell me how awesome your skills at judging major political operatives who were subverting the power for decades.
- PAUSE.
- SANSA STARK IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR NED’S DEATH.
- LATHER
- RINSE
- REPEAT
- Because Ned fucked that up for himself. He told Cersei his plan, and expected her, with no track record of being honorable, to be honorable. Ned had unrealistic expectations of the decency of humanity. And then he died.
- But, prior to that, Sansa went before the entire court and tried to bargain for his life, even though such actions could have gotten her killed, thrown in the black cells, beaten, tortured, or sexually assaulted. AT ELEVEN. SHE WAS ACTING LIKE A HUMBLE MOTHERFUCKING QUEEN AT ELEVEN.
- “Or maybe he’ll give me yours.”
- She never cracks. Ever. She endures constant verbal and physical abuse, manipulation, emotional trauma, and she never cracks. She keeps her head up, and refuses to let the Lannisters and the rest of the court break her. She is the epitome of bending without breaking. AT TWELVE, OKAY. TWELVE. She knows her time is running out, that her political worth may disappear any day, that her life is in the Lannisters’ hands. That she may flower any day at that Joffrey would marry her and be able to legally rape and beat her. That she would bear his children and be forever tied to him. That her children would be born of terror and rape, and that she’d love them anyway and her life would likely be short and she would die at Joffrey’s hand, leaving her children to be molded in his image. AND SHE DOESN’T FUCKING BREAK. AND SHE IS TWELVE YEARS OLD.
- She is kind. She saves Ser Dontos, at risk of her own life. She reaches out to the Hound. She never ever stops being a lady. She is kind and true because a lady is kind and true. She is able to stick to her morals while staying alive, which is more than Robb and Ned could say. She becomes a player in the game while not compromising who she is.
- BLACKWATER. JUST ALL OF IT. ALL OF THE BLACKWATER. Again, Sansa keeps her shit together and acts like the queen of motherfucking everything. Cersei tells her if the city falls she’ll kill her? NBD. Cersei splits, leaving Sansa with some women who are freaking the fuck out? Sansa can handle it. Sandor Clegane comes to her room, drunk and terrified and emotionally unstable? SANSA STARK CAN FUCKING HANDLE IT.
- AND THEN SHIT, WITH THE CONTINUING OF THE GOING-DOWN.
- And then our poor bb girl gets forced into marriage with Tyrion Lannister. She assumes she’s about to be forced into having sex. And she keeps her chin up and offers it to him. AT THIRTEEN. I will not go into all the kinds of awful that is that scene. But she keeps it together.
- AND REWIND, BECAUSE IM LAZY: the wedding scene. She doesn’t kneel. She doesn’t kneel to the lions. If they’re gonna put that cloak around her, she’s not gonna make it easy for them. She will not bend the knee to them. She will not confront the farce they are making of this. She will not give them the satisfaction of seeing her reaction to this.
- Sansa also doesn’t let people shame her. They try and make a mockery of her, but our flawless queen doesn’t let them have an inch of satisfaction. She will prove that she is a maiden fair. That she will not break. That she will be coming back for everything, because she is of the North and the North remembers.
- SO SHE KEEPS HERSELF ALIVE. SANSA, INCIDENTALLY, IS PROBABLY MORE ALIVE THAN YOUR FAVES. BECAUSE SHE HAS MASSIVE SKILLS. BECAUSE SHE LEARNS, AND OBSERVES, AND IS PERCEPTIVE AS SHIT AND ADAPTS AND SURVIVES. IT’S FUCKING DARWINISM, GUISE, AND SANSA IS THE FUCKING FITTEST, SO STFU.
- In re: Alayne. SEE ABOVE. BB girl endures further sexual abuse, and survives. She learns to manage a keep and is humbled by her new position of a bastard. SHE KEEPS FUCKING LEARNING. SHE IS REALLY FUCKING SMART. BECAUSE SHE WAS AT FIRST A LITTLE GIRL WITH A HEAD FULL OF SONGS AND NOW SHE IS RUNNING THE FUCKING EEYRIE AND IS COMPETENT. ALSO, SHE IS ALIVE. THERE IS A CAUSAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN INTELLIGENCE AND SURVIVAL. SEE: DARWINISM.
- ALSO, SWEETROBIN. Sansa is a champ, okay? Just a fucking champ. She loves. She has a huge capacity for love and kindness. She has matured so much from the little girl she was at eleven. At fourteen, she is a mature, capable, kind young woman, with room for even more growth.
- “If I was a queen, I’d make them love me.”
- This meta isn’t supposed to be about how Sansa would be an awesome queen. I’ve already written a fuckton about that. BUT THIS, OKAY. THIS.
In conclusion, Sansa Stark is a really fucking strong person. PERSON, OKAY, NOT JUST WOMAN. Don’t give me shit about how because she doesn’t confront her abusers or enters and stays in abusive situations that she’s weak. No. Just motherfucking no. You do not degrade Sansa’s means of survival. She has made horrible, horrible choices to stay alive, and has not compromised who she is at heart. She has come out of adversity, not twisted and heartless like Littlefinger, but kind and noble, stronger and smarter. She isn’t a fighter. She does not hold a sword. Her weapons are words, her armor her courtesy. And she stays alive. SHE IS FUCKING STRONG, AND SHE IS FUCKING BRAVE, in order to go through day after day of abuse and manipulation.
So yeah, Sansa Stark is my favorite character.