NC State girls....... Best in the world!

fatted:

Family: *says something racist*
Family: *says something sexist*
Family: *says something homophobic*
Family: *makes fun of people with tattoos*
Family: *tells you why you’re bad at life*
Family: why don’t you wanna spend time with us?

(via rneaghan)

Top 10 Reasons for Being an Episcopalian

(According to Robin Williams, that is):

10. No snake handling

9. You can believe in dinosaurs

8. Male and female God created them; male and female we ordain them.

7. You don’t have to check your brains at the door.

6. Pew aerobics.

5. Church year is color coded.

4. Free wine on Sunday.

3. All of the pageantry, none of the guilt.

2. You don’t have to know how to swim to get baptized.

1. No matter what you believe, there’s bound to be at least one other Episcopalian who agrees with you.

Him: We finish each other’s s-
Me: -ocial justice rants.

(Source: xthegirlwithkaleidoscopeeyesx, via whatkaylasays)

lunalovegouda:

When I’m trying to convince people to watch OITNB

(via run-u-clever-boy-and-remember)

so i was in the bus with this granny by my side when we spotted two girls kissing by the bus stop. the granny turned to me and said “these girls are so pretty. at their age i was pretty ugly. well, maybe that’s why i had to marry a man” i almost died omg

(Source: sixelya, via whatkaylasays)

joroakeu:

joroakeu:

now that I’m an adult I can finally go on adult websites.

image

(via rneaghan)

brighid45:

marvel-is-ruining-my-life:

tamorapierce:

onemuseleft:

fuck-me-barnes:

carmanitaknits:

wagrobanite:

think-progress:

Members of Congress are living off food stamps for a week to protest Republican cuts. It’s a challenge for them, but GOP cuts would hurt millions of everyday Americans

Why does this not have more publicity. This needs it!

I want a reality tv show where politicians have to live in poverty for a month. They have to live in Government housing, shop with food stamps, and get only a limited amount of money for clothes. Because here, they still have all their trappings, lilke nice cars and thousand dollar suits. I want them in Walmart jeans trying to determine if they can afford a carton of milk. 

Give them a full calendar year. I want to see them confident in January, and sometime around June choking back tears at the Safeway because they are tired, so tired, of eating 25 cent cup noodles, eyeing other peoples’ full grocery carts with a dull bewilderment.

Let me see them despair because they have a persistent nagging cough that won’t go away and might be turning into pneumonia but the minute clinic is $60, which might as well be as six million dollars, either way they ain’t got it to spare - and that doesn’t count the cost of prescriptions. Let me hear them tell people about the muscle cramps they get at night due to eating non-nutritious garbage for months, the weakness from persistent hunger. 

Let them know the shame and frustration of only owning one pair of cheap polyester pants for work and one pair of thrift-store jeans, and both persistently have ripped crotches and seams coming undone, no matter how many times they get sewn back up.

Let the women know the particular sort of despair that comes once a month when you can’t afford even the cheapest pads or tampons.

Let them understand the frustration of being charged a $35 fee for a $2 overdraft. Let them watch as the bank holds charges from different days in “pending” till they all come through on the same day, and the bank charges them four times for a single overdraft because “the charges all cleared at the same time”. 

I want them to know the particular pain of having to decide between food for the week, or transportation costs to and from work. You can’t have both. Choose wisely.

You do not truly understand poverty until you’ve lived it and a month isn’t enough to encompass it. Not even close.

I have $7000 in medical bills this year because I let something go untreated for nine years because I couldn’t afford it. When I broke my hand I refused to go to the doctor because I couldn’t afford it - it wasn’t until my manager swore up and down that worker’s comp would cover it that I even considered going - and there were pieces of bone sticking out of my hand. I once walked on a broken foot for a year. A year. Because my boss wouldn’t let me have the time off to let it heal properly and my job required being on my feet for 8+hours a day. And that fucking foot kept starting to heal and then re-fracturing all over again. Spaghetti makes me sick to my stomach because I ate it every fucking day for months on end because pasta and tomato sauce are CHEAP, but there was no meat and no veggies, so it didn’t really do me any good. 

Sometimes I buy things I don’t need just to prove to myself that I can. And sometimes I go crazy and buy bags of things for the homeless shelter and the food bank because Jesus, do people need it and I have a little extra to spare now. Sometimes I hoard things, like soap and food and old clothes that I don’t like and will never wear again, because what if I need it in the future and can’t afford it?

Sometimes I remember being so poor that my power was turned off and my bank account was negative and I had nothing in the kitchen but ramen noodles and canned beans and god only knew how I was going to scrape together $475 to pay the rent on my shitty apartment and the lingering stress makes me start to cry.

Rice for a whole winter, except weekends when my boyfriend came down and took me out, and margarine—forget butter—for it only rarely, so I couldn’t eat white rice for forty years.  Pasta and soup with maybe a burger on payday as my only meat.  No dental work, so my teeth are an ongoing trainwreck.  Living in one-room studio apartments in residential hotels for a decade because we couldn’t afford a real apartment or utilities.  And yes to all the bank crap.

I want the Congresscritters to live through a year of THAT before they vote on programs for the poor.

I’m dealing with bad teeth because I can’t take time off work to get them fixed, nor can I afford to get them fixed. I haven’t had a medical checkup in years, and I can’t pay off the medical bills from my poor husband because they add up to hundreds of thousands. Not to mention that he’s gone now because we couldn’t afford the right medical care that might have saved his life. 

I’m still fucked up about that.

Even though I’m widowed, I’m still living with the in-laws because I can’t afford to live on my own, even with a full-time job.

I’m just so exhausted.

THIS. All of it, every single word.

(via rneaghan)