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to the person who stole my ipod

You stole my ipod from me without even a second thought, and you probably wont even stop to realize how shitty that makes me feel to know people such as your self exist, people who can just so willingly take somthing someone has worked so much for, weather it be an ipod, phone, laptop, ect. Not only have you stolen something I worked hard for but you also stole pictures of my family, friends and my music :( All I can say to you is I really hope you can stop and think next time because Im pretty sure you would be just as dissapointed if I or anyone els stole from you. Please delete everything of mine and keep my ipod In good shape.

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theonion:

Increasing Number Of Men Pressured To Accept Realistic Standards Of Female Beauty


Wtf? O.o
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the-treble:

batched:

screwthisimrecovering:

I HEARD RUMORS THAT SOMETHING WAS GOING ON IN THE THINSPO TAG, SO I DECIDED TO CHECK IT OUT AND

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LOOK AT THIS. NO MORE TINY-ASS STRIP AT THE TOP OF THE RESULTS. NO SIR, THERE’S NO WAY YOU CAN MISS THIS. AN ENTIRE FUCKING PAGE…

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"Contrary to what so many Americans learn in school, the pre-Columbian Indians were not sparsely settled in a pristine wilderness; rather, there were huge numbers of Indians who actively molded and influenced the land around them. The astonishing Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan had running water and immaculately clean streets, and was larger than any contemporary European city. Mexican cultures created corn in a specialized breeding process that it has been called man’s first feat of genetic engineering. Indeed, Indians were not living lightly on the land but were landscaping and manipulating their world in ways that we are only now beginning to understand."

— Charles C. Mann, 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus (via swaghavad—gita)

(Source: perugu---annam, via fatgirlopinions)

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"

When I was seventeen and preparing to leave for university, my mother’s only brother saw fit to give me some advice.
“Just don’t be an idiot, kid,” he told me, “and don’t ever forget that boys and girls can never just be friends.”
I laughed and answered, “I’m not too worried. And I don’t really think all guys are like that.”

When I was eighteen and the third annual advent of the common cold was rolling through residence like a pestilent fog, a friend texted me asking if there was anything he could do to help.
I told him that if he could bring me up some vitamin water that would be great, if it wasn’t too much trouble.
That semester I learned that human skin cells replace themselves every three to five weeks. I hoped that in a month, maybe I’d stop feeling the echoes of his touch; maybe my new skin would feel cleaner.
It didn’t. But I stood by what I said. Not all guys are like that.

When I was nineteen and my roommate decided the only way to celebrate the end of midterms was to get wasted at a club, I humoured her.
Four drinks, countless leers and five hands up my skirt later, I informed her I was ready to leave.
“I get why you’re upset,” she told me on the walk home, “but you have to tolerate that sort of thing if you want to have any fun. And really, not all guys are like that.”

(Age nineteen also saw me propositioned for casual sex by no fewer than three different male friends, and while I still believe that guys and girls can indeed be just friends, I was beginning to see my uncle’s point.)

When I was twenty and a stranger that started chatting to me in my usual cafe asked if he could walk with me (since we were going the same way and all), I accepted.
Before we’d even made it three blocks he was pulling me into an alleyway and trying to put his hands up my shirt. “You were staring,” he laughed when I asked what the fuck he was doing (I wasn’t), “I’m just taking pity.”
But not all guys are like that.

I am twenty one and a few days ago a friend and I were walking down the street. A car drove by with the windows down, and a young man stuck his head out and whistled as they passed. I ignored it, carrying on with the conversation.
My friend did not. “Did you know those people?” He asked.
“Not at all,” I answered.
Later when we sat down to eat he got this thoughtful look on his face. When I asked what was wrong he said, “You know not all guys do that kind of thing, right? We’re not all like that.”
As if he were imparting some great profound truth I’d never realized before. My entire life has been turned around, because now I’ve been enlightened: not all guys are like that.

No. Not all guys are. But enough are. Enough that I am uncomfortable when a man sits next to me on the bus. Enough that I will cross to the other side of the street if I see a pack of guys coming my way. Enough that even fleeting eye contact with a male stranger makes my insides crawl with unease. Enough that I cannot feel safe alone in a room with some of my male friends, even ones I’ve known for years. Enough that when I go out past dark for chips or milk or toilet paper, I carry a knife, I wear a coat that obscures my figure, I mimic a man’s gait. Enough that three years later I keep the story of that day to myself, when the only thing that saved me from being raped was a right hook to the jaw and a threat to scream in a crowded dorm, because I know what the response will be.

I live my life with the everburning anxiety that someone is going to put their hands on me regardless of my feelings on the matter, and I’m not going to be able to stop them. I live with the knowledge that statistically one in three women have experienced a sexual assault, but even a number like that can’t be trusted when we are harassed into silence. I live with the learned instinct, the ingrained compulsion to keep my mouth shut to jeers and catcalls, to swallow my anger at lewd suggestions and crude gestures, to put up my walls against insults and threats. I live in an environment that necessitates armouring myself against it just to get through a day peacefully, and I now view that as normal. I have adapted to extreme circumstances and am told to treat it as baseline. I carry this fear close to my heart, rooted into my bones, and I do so to keep myself unharmed.

So you can tell me that not all guys are like that, and you’d even be right, but that isn’t the issue anymore. My problem is not that I’m unaware of the fact that some guys are perfectly civil, decent, kind—my problem is simply this:

In a world where this cynical overcaution is the only thing that ensures my safety, I’m no longer willing to take the risk.

"

— r.d. (via vonmoire)

(Source: elferinge, via fatgirlopinions)

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v0lus:

hey everyone. an australian aboriginal woman has been sentenced to life in prison because of her disability, even though she hasn’t been convicted of any crime. she has been in there for 18 months already, and although the government has the facilities to care for people with disabilities, they are ignoring requests to have her transferred to a dedicated care facility rather than a prison. here is the petition to free her - it still needs ~14,000 signatures. please sign.

(via fatgirlopinions)

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datzhott:

Plus-Sized Woman Rocks Bikini on Hollywood Boulevard to Promote Body Acceptance
Los Angeles is known for many things: great weather, a laidback lifestyle, and Hollywood’s biggest stars. But for many who live in La La Land, the pressure to conform to a certain beauty standard can leave them feeling downright depressed.

datzhott:

Plus-Sized Woman Rocks Bikini on Hollywood Boulevard to Promote Body Acceptance

Los Angeles is known for many things: great weather, a laidback lifestyle, and Hollywood’s biggest stars. But for many who live in La La Land, the pressure to conform to a certain beauty standard can leave them feeling downright depressed.

(via fatgirlopinions)

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thumbtackjuicyfruitspork:

You know when a fast angry song that you know every word to comes on and you’re in just the right mood that your eyes light up with the fire and angst of a thousand punk rockers and you just feel so alive

(via verbalizations)

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bobdoom:

lunathepug:

What kind of noise is that supposed to be, Luna?

This is 100% worth sharing again.  It’s one of my favorite videos of all time.

(via verbalizations)