Guess where I won’t be sleeping tonight… #FuckThatShitWickedWitchOnTheHeadBoardCatchMeOnTheBus #weoutchea #sanfrancisco
Really loving the mental image of Big Boi walking into his hotel room and being all, “Oh FUCK no”
My dude straight loving him some nsync.
never been happier after watching a 6 second video
Sheet gold finger and toe coverings, plus sandals, from the tomb of three minor wives of Thutmose III at Wady Gabbanat el-Qurud, circa 1479-1425 B.C.
Courtesy & currently located at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Photo taken by Keith Schengili-Roberts
want
I need these.
It’s only 11 AM but I made the mistake of reading the comments on an article about rape jokes.
(via theherocomplex)
While discussing certain bad behavior in his recent past, Snoop is so gleefully unrepentant that you start to wonder. Case in point: Snoop says that, around 2003, having long assumed a pimp persona in songs and videos, he actually began selling women into prostitution. “I put an organization together,” he says. “I did a Playboy tour, and I had a bus follow me with 10 bitches on it. I could fire a bitch, fuck a bitch, get a new ho: It was my program. City to city, titty to titty, hotel room to hotel room, athlete to athlete, entertainer to entertainer. If I’m in a city where the Denver Broncos or the Nuggets play, I get a couple of they players to come hang out, pick and choose, and whichever one you like comes with a number. A lot of athletes bought pussy from me.”
“It was never about the money; it was about the fascination of being a pimp,” he says. “I’d act like I’d take the money from the bitch, but I let her have it. As a kid I dreamed of being a pimp, I dreamed of having cars and clothes and bitches to match. I said ‘Fuck it - I’m finna do it.’”
[..]
How does this chapter in Snoop’s life square with his understanding of Babylon? “Fuck about Babylon, it was straight pimpin’ on a bitch, make her do what I tell her!” he exclaims, face beaming, exchanging congratulatory handshakes with his buddies.
—
- Rolling Stone, May 23, 2013
Next time you see his face plastered on the cover of a magazine or you hear his song on the radio or you hear your buddies expressing admiration for his life, remember that Snoop Lion is a sociopath who gets off on controlling women. When a Rolling Stone headline says, “Snoop Dogg Opens Up About His Pimp Past” they don’t mean before he got famous, and they don’t mean when he was getting his career off the ground. In 2003, well after he became a multimillionaire, when the world started chuckling at Snoop Dogg settling into middle age and coaching a youth football team, 10 women started climbing onto a bus so that a rich, powerful man could sell the use of their vaginas to other rich, powerful men. He didn’t even pretend to do this to make money, but simply for the sheer pleasure of being able to control who a group of women had to have sex with. He liked subjugating them to his will, he liked having power over them. Snoop Dogg is a sociopath who ought to be in jail, not on the cover of Rolling Stone.
Lazy Self-Indulgent Book Reviews: On Street Harassment »
I feel shitty about how I deal with street harassment. Which is, generally, to smile and say apologetically, “I’m married!”
I’ve found this is the best way to ensure no one calls me a cunt in public, but, obviously, it’s also doing a disservice to the community. The implication being, of course, that were I not married, I would absolutely give my number to random men who have offered speculations about what my pussy looks or tastes or feels like (pretty great, by the way! You’ll never know!) Which just makes it more likely that they’ll try it on the next girl who walks by.
So, then, when I’m all nice about it, I’m only prioritizing myself. Because I also want to be liked, always, by everyone, and saying I’m married works.
Ignoring is not great. Ignoring gets you a pretty definite “STUCK UP BIIIITCH,” which will take its toll on you, after a time, if you feed off the approval of strangers to the extent I do.
And I think that ignoring goes as badly as it does because these men already feel invisible. I’m not SYMPATHETIC, or anything, to the fact that street harassers feel invisible, I am just theorizing that ignoring them pushes a very profound invisibility button and they respond with explosive anger and rage.
What other men, normal men who you might date or be friends with, tend not to understand about street harassment, is that when you live in a big city, and you get one comment on your way to the subway and one comment on the way back, that’s what’s going to color your day, at least if you’re me. Men you are friends with will say “literally no man I know would ask a strange woman about her pussy on the street,” and they are probably right about that. But, you know, when I go home and get in the shower, I’m not thinking “God bless the three million men in Manhattan who didn’t say something gross to me today,” I’m thinking about the two who did.
So, I don’t know. This doesn’t really have a point. What I do doesn’t work, and is bad for other women, but it keeps me safe. It’s not enough.
Can we just repeat that a few more times,
“The comments on any article about feminism justify feminism.”
“The comments on any article about feminism justify feminism.”
(Source: pinkwithlace, via gethustle)
the best photoset in the history of tumblr
a true work of art
frame this in a museum
(Source: acidarmor, via gethustle)
“My town in Colombia is very beautiful. I don’t travel because I want to leave my home. I travel because I need to know why I’m staying.”
