I adamantly agree that that people mistake this as a frivolous and vain women’s thing, but I disagree that folks don’t give men shit. They do — because they think it’s a frivolous and vain woman’s thing.
Is it possible the sources don’t know who they’re talking about, because these fellas look and sound the same and even exude the same kinda giant marshmallow dude vibe?
So, according to his fans, jokes about second amendment types doing something about Clinton doesn’t mean anything, but holding aloft a sign that says Black Lives Matter means MURDERKILL ALL THE COPS. Okie dokie.
Last night I couldn’t sleep so I read the journal entries of haiku master Ishu, in which he details the slow process of watching his father die, and this morning my radio alarm went off and Aaliyah’s “Try Again” was playing, and wit the combination of those two on my mind I’ve been walking around all day long with…
Didn’t suggest that at all. :) I do, however, suggest you read this:
And rape, domestic violence, and murder as the impetus for character development is actually a well-known phenomena in comics (and with the rise of comics-as-movies, film) known as “women in refrigerators”:
Right? Phoebe Buffet got fired for this a hella while ago.
All those days and still plagiarized a rival party?
I’m 33 but I love memes like kind of a lot, so my “liking” activity on things like Instagram results in a lot of teen- and tweenage meme accounts showing up in my “you might like this” feed.
Do you mean old enough to comprehend what was going on or old enough to just know some shit was going down?
No duh, captain obvious.
I would of taken her seriously if not for that.
Yea. It’s like reflex. My boss complains in side conversations about our male colleagues’ habit of talking over women in meetings (if women are talking, they’re talking to each other; when men are talking, they have an important announcement and everyone better be quiet and listen!) but when I brought it up in the…
You wouldn’t believe how much food I let go to rot because I’m terrified of eating it. For six months I lived on white rice, cabbage, and a giant bottle of sesame oil that I found in the dumpster. And now? I effectively don’t eat much more. What. The fuck. Is wrong with me.
My cousin is her coach. She way older than me and loved my pimply, gooey, furry-legged dork self so much, and now she gets to be in close proximity to greatness and I’m so freakin’ starry-eyed on her behalf.
I did this too! You have no idea how glad I am to have found you!
We also reminisced over the 90s trends of fisheye lenses and shiny clothes in the hip-hop world, and over-saturated colors and brilliant flashes of light followed by a briefly sped-up film in alt-rock.
My job is listening to music, deciding which genre it is, and then suggesting other stuff in the same genre. It entails knowing stupid amounts of stuff about music. After the all-told five-hour interview process I tell ya repeating the rando facts I acquired from years of watching Pop-Up Video is pretty much how I got…
Hey, sometimes you just wanna publish zines.