I am not entirely clear what is going on here. But I definitely think we should mate. I mean DATE! Date!

I am not entirely clear what is going on here. But I definitely think we should mate. I mean DATE! Date!

the fact that “love your body” rhetoric shifts the responsibility for body acceptance over to the individual, and away from communities, institutions, and power, is also problematic. individuals who do not love their bodies, who find their bodies difficult to love, are seen as being part of the problem. the underlying assumption is that if we all loved our bodies just as they are, our fat-shaming, beauty-policing culture would be different. if we don’t love our bodies, we are, in effect, perpetuating normative (read: impossible) beauty standards. if we don’t love our individual bodies, we are at fault for collectively continuing the oppressive and misogynistic culture. if you don’t love your body, you’re not trying hard enough to love it. in this framework, your body is still the paramount focus, and one way or another, you’re failing. it’s too close to the usual body-shaming, self-policing crap, albeit with a few quasi-feminist twists, for comfort.

look at the medusa straight on.: on “loving your body.”  (via vladislava)

things to think about

(via brokendownoldqueen)

This is an excellent point, but I do want to point out that really acceptance needs to come from both places, and both are equally important. Without societal acceptance, all the personal affirmation in the world is not going to fix the problem. But the same is true of the reverse — if people hate themselves, societal acceptance isn’t going to help either. 

(via blueandbluer)

in this framework, your body is still the paramount focus

This is the part that concerns me most about the “love your body” rhetoric. Of course you can be fat and beautiful, but more important: it’s not your job to be physically beautiful, and the focus on beauty can distract us from doing awesome things.

I’m not saying I don’t care how I look, because I really do, but it’s important to me that trying to be pretty doesn’t become an occupation.

The truth is, even if I devoted all my time to it, I would never be as good at being pretty as I am at some other things. I am ordinary-looking. At the risk of sounding vain, I am very smart and very creatively talented. That’s where I can excel.

I want to lose weight and enjoy the extra respect and better clothing options that go along with that, and I want to look presentable for work. But I have a lot of goals, and these aren’t at the top of the list.

(via bryndonovan)

I think it’s important to make a distinction between “loving your body” and being/feeling beautiful. You don’t owe anyone beauty - not even yourself. It’s too much pressure. I think of “loving your body” as less of a defense of its beauty at every moment, and more as a taking care of it. Listening to what it needs and trying to provide that. Not abusing it. Letting it be imperfect. Respecting it as your vessel. Cutting it some damn slack. It’s like, I love my brother, who is a fucking asshole sometimes and I don’t understand why he acts the way he does and I wish he would grow up already…but I do not stand for people putting him down, EVER.

"Loving your body" doesn’t mean you can’t ever want to change it, it doesn’t mean you can’t be deeply unhappy with it sometimes. If you want to diet, diet - but don’t crash diet, don’t do a horribly restrictive fad diet, don’t run ten miles a day and eat only lettuce. Diet in a way that your goals can be achieved without denying your body the things it needs to be a body.

Basically, it’s not letting let self-hatred guide you. And when you feel that hate creeping into your thoughts, recognizing it and shutting it down. Yeah, I like feeling/being beautiful, but that is such a tiny, tiny part of who I am. And when I don’t feel that way, it’s not like I just stop being. It’s not like every other amazing part of me-ness disappears. That’s my take on it, anyway.

(I know that “taking care” of your body is a loaded idea with plenty of baggage, but I’m ignoring that for simplicity’s sake.)

(via bryndonovan-deactivated20121219)

Adventures in stomach flu

Sunday, 4pm
Me: Body, what’s happening? I feel funny!
Body: UNNNNNGGGGHHHHRRRRRKKKKK

Sunday, 8pm
Me: Body, should we eat? Are we hungry? I think it’s time to try again.
Body: UNNNNNGGGGHHHHRRRRRKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Sunday, 10:30pm
Me: Body, let’s stay home from work tomorrow.
Body: nnnnngggfff…sniffle….hrk?

Monday, 11am
Me: Hey, body, here’s some rice. And some water.
Body: Okay…I guess.
Me: Do you want to watch Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty first?
Body: Cinderella…hrkkk.
Me: All right, body. There, there.

Monday, 4pm
Me: Body! Boyfriend brought us some nice broth! Mmm broth! Doesn’t that sound nice?
Body: Hmm, broth. All right. Yes, broth.

Monday, 4:10pm
Body:  UNNNNNGGGGHHHHRRRRRKK WHY WHY WHY 

Monday, 9:30pm
Me: Hey, good news, body! I feel hungry! Real, actual hunger! What should we eat first?
Body: Don’t. Don’t do that. Please…
Me: Fish sticks sound like a great idea!
Body: Nooooooooooooooo!

Monday, 10:15pm
Me: We were not ready for fish sticks, were we?
Body: Fuck you! UNNNNNGGGGHHHHRRRRRKKFFFFFFUCKKKKKYOUUUUUUUUU!

Tuesday, 9am
Me: All right, body. You are thirsty. I can feel it. Here’s some water.
Body: Sit me down on that fucking couch and don’t you fucking dare move.
Me: Do you want an ice cube?
Body: SIT DOWN AND DON’T PUT ANOTHER GODDAMN THING INSIDE ME OR I WILL FUCKING END YOU.

Tuesday, 11am
Me: Body, I am so tired of broth and water.
Body: Shut the fuck up.
Me: Body, wouldn’t a cupcake be nice?
Body: Stop fucking talking to me. We’re not friends.

Tuesday, 12:40pm
Me: Hey, body? We feel a lot better, right? Check in with me, body.
Body: Go fuck yourself.
Me: (dreaming about solid food)
Body: I swear to fucking god, if you open that fucking refrigerator I am going to make you shit yourself.
Me: :( 

the saga continues…

Cereal is pretty great, I agree.

Cereal is pretty great, I agree.

He tongued at my chocolate starfish before thrusting three fingers between my quivering butt cheeks and wiggling his fingers around like he was searching for something he dropped inside of my ass.

50 Shades of Gray (via mycroft)

WTF

(via thedailygamer)

Oh Jesus, and people buy this shit?!? Makes me cringe. Chocolate starfish….just ewwww!

(via tales-of-a-big-sexy-liberation)

(via fatbrat-deactivated20121107)

This is me today.

UGH BODY WHY CAN’T WE BE FRIENDS.

Why we should use the Oxford Comma

stuckinabucket:

bryndonovan:

thejennismightier:

tenderstatue:

bowtiesinthedungeon:

A direct quote from The Times newspaper, talking about a Peter Ustinov documentary and saying that:

 “highlights of his global tour include encounters with Nelson Mandela, an 800-year-old demigod and a dildo collector”.

Forever reblog.

The Oxford Comma is a hill I will die (laughing) upon.

There’s more to Nelson Mandela than meets the eye.

Yes.  Yes, there is.

The Oxford Comma is stupid, useless and ugly!

(via craftastrophies)

Oh, I was once young,
Oh, I was once unbelievably
young!
— Charles Bukowski, from “So Now?” (via the-final-sentence)

A List of Fictional Ladies → Zoe Alleyne Washburne

Big damn heroes, sir.

Holy pie, do I love this woman or WHAT.

(via sophiahelix)

bunnyfood:

(via theclearlydope)

This is also how I look when I sleep.

bunnyfood:

(via theclearlydope)

This is also how I look when I sleep.

(via wieberstein)