shitty-panties's Blurbs

About Me:

i'm a mess.

shitty-panties's Posts

Jul 22 2014 4:34 pm

1193 Notes - View Post - Reblog

(Source: horrorground, via spookyastronauts)

Jul 22 2014 4:25 pm

560 Notes - View Post - Reblog

hotmonsters:

kkilgariff:

Fuck yeah.

(Source: tofuttibreak, via shimshang)

Jul 22 2014 4:15 pm

52 Notes - View Post - Reblog

(Source: dandycapp, via allmenarerapists)

Jul 22 2014 3:56 pm

409 Notes - View Post - Reblog

(Source: memewhore, via girl-farts)

Jul 22 2014 3:10 pm

3143 Notes - View Post - Reblog

"

My mistrust is not, as one might expect, primarily a result of the violent acts done on my body, nor the vicious humiliations done to my dignity. It is, instead, born of the multitude of mundane betrayals that mark my every relationship with a man—the casual rape joke, the use of a female slur, the careless demonization of the feminine in everyday conversation, the accusations of overreaction, the eyerolling and exasperated sighs in response to polite requests to please not use misogynist epithets in my presence or to please use non-gendered language (“humankind”).

There are the jokes about women, about wives, about mothers, about raising daughters, about female bosses. They are told in my presence by men who are meant to care about me, just to get a rise out of me, as though I am meant to find funny a reminder of my second-class status. I am meant to ignore that this is a bullying tactic, that the men telling these jokes derive their amusement specifically from knowing they upset me, piss me off, hurt me. They tell them and I can laugh, and they can thus feel superior, or I can not laugh, and they can thus feel superior. Heads they win, tails I lose. I am used as a prop in an ongoing game of patriarchal posturing, and then I am meant to believe it is true when some of the men who enjoy this sport, in which I am their pawn, tell me, “I love you.” I love you, my daughter. I love you, my niece. I love you, my friend. I am meant to trust these words.

There are the occasions that men—intellectual men, clever men, engaged men—insist on playing devil’s advocate, desirous of a debate on some aspect of feminist theory or reproductive rights or some other subject generally filed under the heading: Women’s Issues. These intellectual, clever, engaged men want to endlessly probe my argument for weaknesses, want to wrestle over details, want to argue just for fun—and they wonder, these intellectual, clever, engaged men, why my voice keeps raising and why my face is flushed and why, after an hour of fighting my corner, hot tears burn the corners of my eyes. Why do you have to take this stuff so personally? ask the intellectual, clever, and engaged men, who have never considered that the content of the abstract exercise that’s so much fun for them is the stuff of my life.

"

-Shakesville - The Terrible Bargain We Have Regretfully Struck (via misandry-mermaid)

I may abandon my “No Tattoos” rule to get this inked on my back in an appropriately hateful font. That, or I can print it on business cards and hand it out to…everyone.

(via that-stripper-hates-you)

(via koradarling)

Jul 19 2014 6:27 pm

2514 Notes - View Post - Reblog

(Source: caturday, via unbear)


©2011-2012 SleeplessThemes.com. All Rights Reserved. Powered By: Tumblr.com