Bob and a few other queens got REAL about racism.

Acknowledge it.

And the only way to work on that bias is to acknowledge it within yourself, work against it and avoid becoming defensive or reactionary when someone calls you out on it

rare vent art from a few months ago

Who the fuck sits around thinking it’d be a good idea to impoverish future generations out of jealousy???

John Brosio, State of the Union, 2011, oil on canvas

My last two brain cells watching lotr/th for the 37368298th time:

Her confidence is up to HERE.

Her face says it all.

“Auntie” is retired WNBA player DR. CHANTEL TREMITIERE. For the record.

If this isn’t true I don’t know what is 😭😍😍😍

Story time

In honor of the holiday season, I’m going to tell you a story of the time my Dad almost got arrested for buying my mom a bookshelf. It’s a story of watchful, well-meaning neighbors, my mom’s forgetfulness, and my dad’s tendency to be a smartass when he shouldn’t be. 

First thing to know is my parents used to have an old Astro van. Like this one:

It was blue in its prime, but at the time of the events of this story, it was the no-color of rust, peeling paint, and age. It had been across the country half a dozen times on family vacations, endured carsick children and not-yet-potty trained dogs, and was basically the geriatric member of our family that was just about ready to retire. 

Said van had been roped into service one late December evening when my dad, who had purchased my mom a gorgeous but huge oak bookcase–the kind carved from one piece that couldn’t be disassembled–wanted to load it into the garage while my mom was at a dinner meeting. He and my brother had gone to pick up the bookshelf, and it was loaded into the back of the van, but they got back to our street before my ever-running-late mother had left the house. 

So they parked a few houses down, in the shadows between two streetlamps, turned off the ignition, and waited. 

My mom comes hurrying out of the house and hops into her little Honda Civic. She pulls out and drives to the end of our residential street, getting ready to turn onto the main road. My dad, seeing this as his cue, turns on the ignition to the old van. 

But then my mom, who was as forgetful as she was chronically tardy, suddenly put the civic in reverse and pulled back to our driveway. My dad hurriedly turned off the ignition again and waited while my mom ran into the house, grabbed whatever it was she’d forgotten, then ran back out to the idling Civic. 

When she left the second time, Dad waited a few seconds until he was sure she was gone, then pulled the ancient Astro up to our driveway and backed in slowly in preparation of unloading the huge and heavy shelf into the garage. 

My brother and Dad had barely stepped out of the van, however, when a neighbor came running up the street, barefoot and frantic looking. “Thad!” she said, “Oh my god, Thad! I’m so sorry! The police are coming!” 

Turns out hers was the house he’d parked in front of, and she’d seen a shadowy, suspicious-looking van that was apparently waiting for my house to be empty before pulling in. She thought we were being robbed, so she’d called the cops.

My dad found it funny, and when the police squad car arrived and two officers stepped out, he moved forward, hands in the air, and said, “Sorry officers, I’m guilty!” 

I should probably tell you: My dad was also a lawyer at the time, and knew a good number of the cops in our town, including one of the officers that had been dispatched to our house. 

But the second officer frowned at my dad and said, “Sir, please stay where you are. I don’t know if you’re guilty or not.” 

My dad sheepishly put his hands down. 

Of course, everything turned out all right. The officer who knew my dad said hi, my dad explained the situation, and (iirc) the police actually helped my younger brother and my dad carry the heavy bookshelf into the garage. 

The whole thing was very funny and is now an amusing anecdote we like to retell around the holidays: the time my dad tried to reverse-rob his own house with an antique oak bookshelf. It was all fun and laughter and no one got hurt.

Because we’re white. 

Privilege exists everywhere. 

I wrote this story 2 years ago, and it hits even harder for me now. I’m starting to finally understand that every cop, even the two that helped my dad unload a heavy bookcase at Christmastime, is complicit in a system that permits bullying, brutality, and murder with little to no consequence. I’ve come to understand every cop works work a fundamentally unethical job in a fundamentally unethical system, and as soon as that system demands it of them, they will be bastards–or they will be fired for objecting to the demands of that system. 

As a fantastic video on the subject put it: It’s not that one bad apple spoils the barrel; it’s that one bad barrel spoils the apples. And our police institution is one bad fucking barrel. 

 So this holiday season, in addition to bringing back this little anecdote, I’d also like to say:

Black Lives Matter Donation Page

I wouldn’t really say these are kilts. They’re just pretty ugly skirts with what looks like clip-on cargo pockets.

Just because a guy wears a skirt doesn’t automatically make it a kilt.

Before someone inevitably gives me a big long explanation about the difference between a kilt and a skirt - if you wear that anywhere in Scotland, it’s not getting called a kilt.

Here’s what real men in kilts look like.

Get the full story.

https://www.verillas.com/

They literally advertise Pride kilts each summer and have been loudly pro-LGBT for a while.

Year-round the link to the Pride kilts stay up. The Pr**d B*ys choosing Verillas means they either did absolutely zero homework on the company they chose, or they were trying to take over an overtly pro-LGBT company. Either way, Verillas wasn’t having it. 

…or Hobby Lobby, or Amazon, etc.

I gotta say no fandom has URLs as good as Star Trek’s

every time I see “spockandballtorture reblogged your post” I lose it again

the circle is complete..........

What great news to wake up to

this is how jack black can still win…

Alright, here’s the breakdown.

Sorry to ruin the fun, but I feel like the “misha fucked bill clinton” joke overshadows the actual story, which is that Misha is just a good dude who stood up for Lewinsky when the rest of the nation was treating her as a laughing stock.

My favourite part of this video is that it takes place in Hull which is in stupid q*ebec and I want you all to know this is just how fr*nch c*nadians drive even when there isnt snow and ice. Like even in the middle of summer. They go to Ottawa and drive like this

ohhhh we slidin’

i lost it at the cop car

awesome story. black doctors and nurses are the best.

We need more of this

All my black premeds, keep going. We love you, we need you!

break it down now y’all