right, the thoughts behind this drawing came from hearing the song Bass by Meghan Trainor. On first listen I thought okay, great, body acceptance blah blah. Then I heard the lyric, 'she said boys like a little more booty to hold at night’. I thought, why the fuck must we only accept ourselves and our bodies in the context of male sexual appeal. And how dangerous it is to be coining pop songs like these as ‘feminist anthems’ when really they are just adding to the damn tidal wave of misogynistic views we’re already up to our necks in. If I ever write a pop song it’s gonna be about eating toast and rolling down hills and screaming at the sky because that’s all the cool stuff you can do with your body.
I do have a bit of a thing for ‘thicker’ women, so I think I wanted to like Meghan Trainor, but she’s kind of teetering into giving off that vibe that a lot of female pop stars do where you can tell they’re trying to present themselves as attractive, but you don’t actually feel attracted to them because you can tell that they don’t look entirely real (some do it worse than others).
That took exactly 8 minutes for a dude to chip in about how the woman can’t even get being thick right!!! brilliant.
Anonymous asked: I'm bored, what should I do?
One time I was bored at school so I cut a chunk out of my eyebrow not realising it would look like I had cut a chunk out of my eyebrow. So I go home and my mother is all, ‘hey what the fuck happened to your eyebrow’ and I told her that I’d ‘fallen down’. It took 2 months to grow back properly
So basically, just don’t do that
(you never sleep regularly anymore.)
Let a beautiful thing be beautiful. Leave it alone and let it be. Don’t pick that flower, don’t dump pollution into the ocean, don’t ask her for her number.
Still obsessed with this song, 10 years later.
A poem about androgyny in people / genderqueer people.
I originally saw it on Reddit, and stake no claim to this post whatsoever.
You’re given all these chances to make it right but you choose to do the wrong thing each time because you can get away with it.
You don’t even care if you’re a shitty person as long as you don’t have to face the repercussions. You truly don’t care about other people’s well-being and I’m having a hard time accepting that. Everyone avoids you like a plague. I can only deal with small doses of you because you’re toxic. Nobody likes you anymore. You know it’s true too, but you just can’t seem to figure out why. You trick yourself into believing that you’re digging for gold when in reality, you’re digging your own grave. I don’t know how you got this bad and off track and I’m running out of sympathy for you. No, you’re not really about this hippie shit that you pretend to represent. You don’t know peace. Your insides are full of hate, jealousy, and greed. If you were a disease, you would be cancer.
- Girl: *approaches with a large enthusiastic smile* Excuse me, are you busy?
- Me: Yes. *blinks once and places headphones back in ears and continues typing*
- Girl: *stands there for a few more seconds looking disoriented before quickly walking away*