missdorothea
Miss Dorothea
missdorothea

This is part of it, sure, but it absolutely ignores social media’s role in the dissemination of misinformation, as well as concerted efforts by anti-vaxxers to spread misinformation and manipulate parents into spending their money on alternative medicine that they profit from. (See: article yesterday on Jenny

Poor Paris. Can you even imagine? Ugh.

Listen, when ANYBODY tries to rip off Prince, nobody wins. This sad, half-hearted (half-assed?) attempt, though. Yikes.

Colonoscopy?

does the black thong come with the pants or would i need to purchase my own?

Yes, exactly. I feel like this article just wants to take issue for the sake of taking issue. The advertising industry has done so much harm to womens self image from the start with narrow idea of whats okay and attractive. You dont need to buy a product in order to be affected by the adverts. For better or worse.

I traded my ‘ideal body’ (that’s a lie, actually.. I never possessed one of those) for not having cancer, so there’s that.

Yeah, it would be really nice for loose skin & stretch marks to be accepted even if they didn’t come from having a baby.

I love how Jez works up a frothy head of righteous outrage for crap like this and then the next post is promoting whatever the fuck Kim Kardashian is selling.

Ugh that photo is gross! That baby is so flabby and needs to work out! Get to it baby, get to it!  :)

I don ‘t know what to suggest or do.  But I do have two family members who basically … avoided swimming, avoided anything their body would be seen, and had serious intimacy problems with their partners post baby because they could never feel comfortable with heavy stretch marks/loose skin.  I find those things are

As a person who’s been living with depression (or, more accurately, slowly dying from depression, let’s be real) my main problem with the “JUST EXERCISE!” ethos is that it compounds the already miles-long list of things I fail to do to be Normal and Happy* — which my brain interprets as a failure to do because I am A

My “unhealthy” (becauseoverweight”) friend can easily run ten miles in one go, and has a resting heart rate that’s half of mine — yet because I’m skinny, no one stops me and tells me to “get healthy.”

You’re absolutely right about exercise having amazing benefits for mental and physical wellbeing. I think the concern is when this idea is pushed on people whogenuinely need medical intervention for mental unwellness e.g. implying a run in the forest will do the job of their anti-depressants or psychologist.

He’s probably asexual. Slight possibility that he might be gay.

I’ve been riding public transportation in major cities (DC, NY, LA) for going on 10 years now, and while I’ve been stalked and verbally abused, I’ve never seen anyone actively shitting or vomiting. Perhaps I have a guardian angel?

I once sat on a seat on the streetcar that had a weird white stain on it. After sitting there for a minute my butt started to feel wet, and I had to move. Not sure what it must’ve been, it was a huge stain covering most of the seat. Maybe milk, but I don’t feel like the colour would be that obvious once it soaked into

A few months after 9/11 and the anthrax attacks, I was at Metro Center, the main subway interchange in the middle of DC. To the side of the Red Line platform, beyond the escalators down to the Blue Line, there was a new hot-dog-cart-sized contraption sitting next to a guardrail. Upon closer inspection, it was clearly

I was on a crowded metro train in Montreal, seated directly across from a little girl (five or six max) that was vigorously picking her nose. She pulled a giant booger out and her mom leaned over and said “Don’t you even think about it.” The girl responded by wiping her booger on a window. As soon as her mom looked

I used to ride public transit so much that all the bad smells and inconveniences have sort of blended together at this point. I thought of myself as being pretty numb to the horribleness of it all. One day though, a man sat down next to me on a crowded bus in dirty, smelly clothes holding his backpack in front of him.