69 requires both parties wanting to give. Donny is no giver.

Yep. That girl isn’t going to fight the bull-she’s ready to merge with it.

I know the lyrics to weird Al’s “Handy”

Bullshit. I had pics taken bu a stranger without my consent and put on Insta- I only found out because an old friend happened to meet the stranger, followed him on insta, saw the pics and alerted me. These pics, even if I *had* given permission for them to be shared, violated ToS and nudity guidelines. I flagged the…

This is why I became a quiet, palatable, well liked little basketcase.

Except Rich is a guy.

They were *awful* to Ke$ha, and I say this as a person who can’t stand her music or her (at the time) stage persona.

I wonder if i, in this case, it’s related to the fact that the victim is supposed to remain anonymous. Talking about her in emotional terms might lead to a slip of the tongue.

FBs made it very apparent that they don’t give a shit unless it makes them money or makes them look good in a way that will make them more money.

Fuck, you’re right.

(A) Income inequality means it’s going to be even harder for minorities to win bids in the first place.

Yes, let me take my pitiful bank account and nonexistent support system to a foreign government. They’ll give me a work visa no problem!

Sounds like, except for the choking until unconscious part (v. Dangerous), pretty normal kink shit. My bf and I do pretty much all this on a normal-ish basis BUT we’ve known/dated for years and trust each other very much -i.e. We don’t really do shit without consent, we negotiate “hey, tomorrow, fuck me till I wake…

I feel like she’s just breaking a few things and then sitting on it while it vibrates. Which might feel nice on the girls, eh?

Question: is it weird for a parent of a peanut allergic kid to walk into an establishment and insist that they hide all peanut products while his son is on the premises?

My best friend’s parents have this retro poster in their kitchen.

Our grandmothers really knew how to do it.

That was their tactic that day: grab someone, drag them back to the “safety” and privacy of the wall of police. Noone can see what happens. Noone can save you.

Fuck I forgot that part.

I used to remember every detail of my rape. I still remember the subconscious things-smell, taste, what song was playing, the sound of rain and his sweat dripping on my face. I remember the first time I met him-he looked at me like I was disgusting, like he wanted to hurt me. I should have trusted that instinct, but…