hello friends! want 2 know a thing! its a-okay to not like reading! it’s a-okay to watch gatsby without having read the books because some people don’t like reading the way some people don’t like sports or some people don’t like cooking! weird!
i’ve got this dang teacher who claims to be a massive feminist who was talkin trash about rihanna today like “i think she’s stupid i don’t like her cause she’s dumb and went back to that dumptruck chris brown” and i was trying to casually assert that abuse is a self perpetuating cycle that isn’t simple or easy to leave and she was like YEAH well she had so much support when she left him she doesn’t even need him for money she has a lot of stuff no one’s gonna sympathize w/ her when he does it again and i am BOILING still on the inside u lil shit
rude as heck man
Excuse me if I’m speaking from ignorance, but what are you exactly? What do you mean by ‘white’? What region do you originate from? Is it more PC to say ‘Whitey’ or ‘Caucasoid’? Whitorian? Do you simply prefer ‘Murikan’? Or do you identify more with your ancestors, the great Your Penises? I mean, no offense, you don’t really *act* white, and you look a little pink to me, but I can hear your accent and see it in the way you move. I can see it in your wrinkles and the way your earlobes droop down.
I just looove that Caucasoid food. Tell me about that exotic concocation your people call…forgive if I’m mispronouncing…mayow? Mayaw? May on naise! What exactly goes in there? I’ve had Caucasoid food, in fact I ate at an authentic White house before. I entered, unaware of the cultural practices of allowing their animals to run freely inside the house and complimenting their women on table cloths and patio arrangements. On styrofoam bowls we poured cold bean sludge and ice burg lettuce next to a brick like substance known as ‘meatloaf.’ The most interesting part of the ritual was not the insistence on letting dogs eat at the table with us, nor the hollow praise for the most egregiously piled centerpiece, nor the bemoaning of suburban drudgery, but a bizarre substance called…casserole. A ‘casserole’ is where a Caucasoid throws all types of leftover ingredients they just don’t know what to do with- I’m talking, hot dogs slices, jello chunks, bacon bits, Doritos for that extra crunch, congealed brocolli and cheese soup, and whatever else they find stuck to the botttom of the cupboard. They then coat it with velveeta cheese, sprinkle with hamburger, ice it with crisco oil and expect their guests to stomache this little invention. I wanted to be polite and taste bits of their culture but I couldn’t get over the birdpoop piled on every plate. I later learned this custom is called Ranch Dressing. Clearly a misnomer, as we were indoors, but I suppose that is how Caucasoids operate… I’ve heard that’s why the men always smell like wonder bread down there.
Another time I traveled to a faraway land shrouded with mystery. It was called..Iowa. The people there were so beautiful. And their skin. ..I mean their skin seemed almost translucent. How do they get their hair to be so stringy? Someone told me once the oil build up causes their people to wash it every day. Fascinating.
How oppressed their women are! Walking around like ghosts, vanilla wafers, emaciated and nearly diappearing into pixie dust. I mean how the men make them bare their thighs like that. Force them to take their last names, I think it’s all the corn in their diet.
The restaurants were so exotic, there was one I saw everywhere. I think it is associated with their religious symbol, two yellow arches meeting in the middle like the curves of a dirtied asshole. For pennies one could get rubbery chicken tendrils and other greasy balls of food like substances akin to their culture.
Tell me about the KKK. Are all Caucasoids members or is obligatory for only Christians? I read in the news they have terrorist cells all throughout the South. Can you explain that to me?
Tell me about genocide.
Tell me about slavery.
Tell me about being
the overseer and the cracker
And the towns still called
Lynchburg and Ni***rtown Texas
Tell me about Monsanto and Westboro,
Tell me about tar pipes
Tell me how many bones
you ate for breakfast this morning.
Tell me about your skulls
Why they are shaped like lies
Tell me about your physiology
Why you walk like that?
Miss mvula sings,
who made you
the center of
Tell me about your children
still kicking my brother down
in the sandbox
telling him he’s a terrorist
Your children who
wouldn’t play with me as a child
because I believed in the wrong gods
Who is your god?
Where is your country?
Do you believe your false borders built on false pretenses deserve to exist?
Do you realize your people are the illegal immigrants stealing our jobs?
Do you expect my brothers and sisters in the Phillipines and Pakistan and Somalia and Detroit and Oakland and Chicago to keep dying for you?
Is this your peoples idea of fun? Tell me why you bombed Oklahoma City, Black Wall Street, Baghdad, burned our museums and imprisoned the freedom fighters among us in Guantanamo?
Is white is an absence of color or the combination of our history’s ghosts?
Who made you the default? Do you ever pronounce the H in white like or do you deny it like the H bomb?
Like a mayonnaise mixture there is no denying that somewhere in your purified veins there is the spirit of those who died because of you.
I see them peering out from your eyes.
So Whitey, Cracker, Caucasoid, Murikan, Imperialist, Racist, Colonializer, Demonizer, Savior, Oppressor, God,
I will believe in your humanity
the day you believe in ours
another thing that makes me want to throw up: young people trying to defend DOMA/anti-gay legislature whatever bc you know I think you’re wrong but whatever it’s not my mind not my problem you can believe whatever you want to believe and I’m not necessarily going to shame you or demonize it for it but the minute you try and force your beliefs on the entire country its like GROSS please go away I can’t even think about it how can you even justify your self righteous agenda i don’t understand i don’t understand how does this affect your life in any way how do people getting married and having access to the same benefits as everyone else affect you HOW CAN YOU PROTEST AGAINST PEOPLE’S LIVES BEING BENEFITED HOW DOES THAT MAKE YOU NOT AN ASSHOLE to be quite honest i don’t believe in the super rich hoarding all the money on a moral basis i think greed’s a sin you feel but you don’t see me going around PROTESTING THEIR RIGHT TO EARN MONEY I don’t get it I’m going to bed all this human indecency has me all pooped out good night tumblr good night world i hate you
late night bloggin’ let me tell you a thing: thinking about how fucked up america and the whole world is and the unequal distribution of wealth and human rights and how we’re still fighting for them and my privilege to be able to afford college even just barely when there are kids out there a million times smarter with a million times more potential than me who could make a million times more of a difference in this crummy world given the opportunity that comes with a respectable college degree but getting that degree costs five times their families’ income makes me want to cry and kick things but mostly kick things namely rich people and naysayers who say that people are poor bc they’re lazy and addicted to things when really it’s because they’re stuck in a self perpetuating cycle of inequality where it’s not that they won’t go to college or can’t get into college, but that they can’t AFFORD to, which is a big deal. Money is the key unfortunately and i hate to be a college snob you know, but i honestly believe that education is the key to the future and it is so, so important to have that, especially in this society and we’re denying it to anyone who isn’t rich enough to fork over fifty grand at the drop of a hat so just because it’s not LEGAL to discriminate it’s happening through loopholes and I want to fix it but i also want to cry about it because, shit, it’s just so vast a problem, what can we do, what can we do okay bye
new theme new BLOGGING me? heh heh heh nope sorry all 100 of the followers i have left i dont need no tumblr fame i dont need no notes all i need is my main bitches dont need nNO- don’t ne..eed f-followERS?? do….n…t no…(collapses into uncontrollable sobbing)
on one hand i’m happy that Daughter is starting to get the attention they deserve but on the other hand i’m like shhhhhh hisssss MINE go away
if I tack on an “i guess” to my statement it means that i’m being genuine like if I say “ur a pretty okay dude” that means that I actually secretly hate you but if I say “ur pretty okay…i guess” it means we’re actually cool and you can join my kr3w if you want
i am writing and illustrating a short comic about a polar bear and his human friend crossing the tundra to die peacefully with his brethren elephant graveyard style it is decided u cant stop me h8rz gonna hate no this is not a result of too much flu medication i am a strong independent woman with free will
okay so my Grandparents gave me this naruto video game for christmas and i haven’t really played it at all, but my Dad freaking loves it
i didn’t even know he was playing it until a while ago he came up to me and looked me really intensely and just whispered “believe it”
for posterity’s sake