myutsuu:

when artists think that just adding breasts to a character makes her an adult but forget to change the facial structure to matchimage


teganfeatsara:

that’s how I wanna go


20daysofjune:

Black people that support and wish for the validity of Beyonce and Jay Z breakup rumors disgust me because they fail to realize that the only reason society wants them to break up is because it would be the demise of the world’s most wealthy and powerful black celebrity super couple and therefore single handedly destroy the African American dream of love, success and opulence.


tastefullyoffensive:

Mankind’s greatest invention. [video]


queensoybean:

babyhucks:

America: Where dudes can get unlimited boner pills that have no other medical use but women can’t get birth control pills that prevent cancers, regulate periods, help with menstrual cramping, prevent break outs, and help with cysts. 

I think it’s time for a woman’s uprising.


majesticaljeff:

rednecktex:

huffy-lemon:

Favorite story posts part 1

That last one

My dad says the ‘making love in a canoe’ about american beer


thatthinginyourshoe:

lil-bit-ghei:

lil-bit-ghei:

"What were you wearing?"

I wore a red dress to work today. It has a zipper at either side of my chest that can unzip and reveal a thin strip of skin. A coworker, without warning, tried pulling at the zipper and when it wouldn’t zip, instead revealed a good portion of my collarbone and shoulder as well as my bra strap. An hour later, the same coworker came up and told me to not wear clothes with zippers because he’ll go right ahead and unzip them. I shot back that unzipping me without my permission is sexual harassment. Apparently a manager heard and berated my coworker. At the end of my shift, my coworker told me that my little comment got him in trouble and that he no longer feels comfortable saying anything to me other than “hello” and “goodbye.”

I am supposed to feel guilty for pointing out that he can’t lay his fucking hands on me.

So I wore the infamous dress at work yesterday and ANOTHER MALE COWORKER DECIDED TO PULL AT ONE OF MY FUCKING ZIPPERS.
We were surrounded by other (also male) coworkers (that did nothing) and I swatted his hand away while promptly informing him that he didn’t have permission to touch me.

He then asked, since he knows I cosplay, if it would be any different if I wore a revealing costume. I gave him a dirty look and told him that no matter what *I* decide to wear, no one is allowed “to lay a finger on me unless they want my foot up their ass.”

Being that I’m quite professional at work, they were all surprised by my language and the ferocity with which I spat my promise.

you fucking go girl


gildatheplant:

pomme-poire-peche:

useyourwordsasher:

cmtothemc:

theancientcistern:

omegaqueer:

thatlupa:

All it does is show me you have a superiority complex and deep rooted classist tendencies. I’ve been a waitress, a barista and a sales associate, so your talking down to others just tells me at one point you would’ve talked down to me. This guy in the queue tried to buy me a coffee today, after ripping into the guy behind the counter about his skills and his job. Don’t care what people do for a living, if you don’t treat ‘em like (very important) people when you deal with them, we can’t be friends.

"A person who is nice to you but cruel to the waiter isn’t a nice person."

I don’t understand how people don’t get this

It is terrifying. It means if you don’t adhere to their demands or if you make on little mistake, they can turn on you. I don’t deal with people who are nasty to others.

Fucking *this*.

http://notalwaysright.com/tip-of-the-entree-iceberg/27669

(It is a busy Saturday night. During the dinner rush, I have been dealing with a table of two 20-something year old men. The blonde one has found something to complain about every time I’ve walked by while the brown-haired one just blushes and stays quiet. They’ve finished their meal.)

Blonde Man: “Are you new here?”

Me: “No, sir. I’ve been a waitress here for two years and three years at [other restaurant] prior.”

Blonde Man: “Then you have no excuse for how terrible this service was. The salad was wilty, and the entree was way too cold, and you were nowhere to be found. Plus, this place is far too noisy; I could barely hear myself speak! Honestly, I get better service at a fast food place.”

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way. While there isn’t much I can do about the noise, I did offer to bring you different food before, but you said no.”

Blonde Man: *waves me off* “Just bring me the check, and try not to be so slow about it for once.”

(I go and get the check, but when I return, the brown-haired man stands up and hands me a $20 bill.)

Brown-haired Man: “Here, this is your tip. He wasn’t going to give you one. As a former waiter myself, I thought you were doing a perfectly fine job. My food was great, and the service was fast even though you’re so busy right now.”

(He turns to his blonde companion.)

Brown-haired Man: “People like you made my job so much worse, especially for making us work that much harder for no tip. So thanks for the meal, but you can go ahead and delete my number because there will be no second date. And by the way,potjevleesch is supposed to be served cold, you idiot.”

(With that, he left the restaurant without his date. It made the whole night worth it, to see that blonde man speechless for once.)

Brown-haired Man is my hero.


nikaalexandra:

apparently it’s nineteen fucking twenty


chanzterritory:

marazione:

gokuma:

what’s this?

dennou coil!!

I love this!