I once told a joke about a straight person.
They came after me in droves.
Each one singing the same:
Don’t fight fire with fire.
What they mean is: Don’t fight fire with anything.
Do not fight fire with water.
Do not fight fire with foam.
Do not evacuate the people.
Do not sound the alarms.
Do not crawl coughing and choking and spluttering to safety.
Do not barricade the door with damp towels.
Do not wave a white flag out of the window.
Do not take the plunge from several storeys up.
Do not shed a tear for your lover trapped behind a wall of flame.
Do not curse the combination of fuel, heat, and oxygen.
Do not ask why the fire fighters are not coming.
When they say: Don’t fight fire with fire.
What they mean is: Stand and burn.
Richard Haste, an NYPD officer, killed an unarmed black teen (Ramarley Graham) in front of his grandmother and 6-year-old brother at point blank range over marijuana. The landlady, Paulet Minzie, 55, ran out the shower with only a towel after hearing the gunshots. Officers then put a gun to her head and told her to put her hands up. It wasn’t until she told them that there were cameras surveilling them, that they put their guns down.
Court papers say “[He\] immediately lowered his weapon. His demeanor completely changed, and he alerted his colleague that they may be on camera,”. The footage later revealed that Graham walked calmly to his apartment followed by police barging in without a warrant, contradicting the officers original claim that the teenager was running away from him. (Source)
Haste was freed on $50,000 bail yesterday after pleading not guilty. Police cheered for him as the parents of Graham wept in the court room.
Murderers. Evil filthy murderers. I hate the police.
This is what happens when you put insecure, immature little boys in positions of power with no consequences for their actions.
Spoiler alert: adulthood is 96% of you going “well, I hope this is how it works and I’ll keep doing it till someone yells at me”
I love how she almost drops it until she smells it and that flashbulb memory hits.
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real … Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
You Aren’t Boring I Just Suck At Conversations I’m Sorry: a novel by me
I’m Not Ignoring You I Just Don’t Know What To Say: a sequel by me
I Feel Like I have Nothing Interesting To Say So I Don’t Say Anything At All And I’m Really Sorry Don’t Stop Talking To Me: the trilogy.
*holds own titty for comfort*
Real life vs Societal expectations
Yeah, news flash people, boobs generally only look “perky” while in a bra. A few are super lucky and have naturally perky boobs, most don’t. And this is because, SURPRISE, boobs are intended to feed babies and it’s hard for a baby being cradled in mum’s arm to reach a nipple that’s on the other side of the boob from where its mouth is.
Think of a soda fountain machine. The spouts are all pointing down, right? So you can put soda in a cup being held under the spout? If the spout was sticking straight out, it would be really hard to get a soda out of it.
Babies need to be able to reach a nipple easily so they can eat. Ergo, nipples are usually lower and angled more downward on a naturally hanging boob, both so it’s easier for a baby to reach and so gravity can do its part in pulling milk toward the nipple.
So there you go, outright ANATOMICAL proof that boobs are not there for the benefit of men.