so idc

ok….. i know how most of us feel about this and tbh i agree but pls do nOT tweet dan/phil about your disappointment/anger bc i’m sure they’ve worked hard and thought about this over and over and they wouldn’t do it if they thought we wouldn’t like it so please just be nice

Amber was slowly starting to hit a dead end. All she had was a name and an address that no longer existed. Not being in town for years she had lost touch with the names in town so this last name was new to her. She hated to knock on doors but that’s what it all came down to. Knocking on the door she held up her badge as it opened. “I’m looking for a Brandon Marker, have you seen him?” she asked in a strong tone.

I'm having a real chubby girl moment...

Lemme tell y’all about this burrito I’m eating rn. This burrito taste like God himself made it and sent his son Jesus to deliver it to me. This burrito taste like Beyoncé sang to it. This burrito taste like everything 75% off at your favorite store. This burrito taste like the moment Frank Ocean finally releases his album. If I wasn’t having such a fat moment eating this burrito with one hand and typing this post on my phone with the other, I might consider giving it a round of applause.

Y’ALL. THIS. IS. A. GOOD. ASS. BURRITO!

I’m a girl.
I carry a rape whistle.
I have seen
hundreds of videos of what is the best way to get out of the arms of a man who doesn’t know what NO means.
what’s there to be scared of?

I’m a girl.
I have 911 on speed dial as I fast-walk through empty parking lots.
catcalls are not compliments. whistles are not compliments.
I don’t run because predators like challenge. we’ve all seen pets turn into killers.
I am not bulletproof and I don’t want to find out when whistles turn into bullets.
what’s there to be scared of?

I’m a girl.
the value of my word shouldn’t be determined by the length of my skirt.
the truthfulness of my story shouldn’t be determined by how drunk I was.
my body isn’t mine and no doesn’t mean anything.
whats there to be scared of?

I’m a girl.
I am 5’5 and I know I am not made of flowers but I still weigh less than 110 pounds
and both of my arms have been broken once before so I know how easy it is to snap bones in two
and yes, I pretend to be invisible when I walk past boys taller than me
and yes, I walk a little faster when I realize I’ve been seen
and yes, I pretend to talk in the phone so they won’t choose me.
what’s there to be scared of?

I’m a girl.
I blend into walls and I’d rather swallow glass than
walk the streets of this town at night.
I know that to “kick like a girl” is not a compliment
and I know that my body is not mine
because it’s been taken from me thousands of times before
by men who think women are their property
because everyone in this society grows up to hate women
regardless of their gender.
what’s there to be scared of?

I’m a girl.
wearing make-up makes me a slut and not wearing make-up makes me ugly and the worst thing a girl can be is ugly,
and if you’re ugly someone will take your body from you against your will and spit down your throat and force you to say you’re thankful because no-one else would have had sex with you,
and if you’re pretty you will be the prettiest thing he’s seen today and you will be so afraid to be pretty again because he will make you swallow all his words and they will make you feel hollow and empty,
and they won’t listen to you because if you’re wearing make-up you were asking for it and if you’re not you were just lucky to get someone.
what’s there to be scared of?

I’m a girl.
there is no rape-culture.
women are liars.
not all men rape.
I am 16 and “worth going to jail for”
I am 16 and “fine”
I am 16 and I refuse to be your
girl or baby or sweetheart or honey.
whats there to be fucking scared of?

I’m a girl.
my body is not mine.
I carry a rape whistle.
what’s there to be scared of?

—  what’s there to be scared of // x