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Ten rape prevention tips:

1. Don’t put drugs in women’s drinks.

2. When you see a woman walking by herself, leave her alone.

3. If you pull over to help a woman whose car has broken down, remember not to rape her.

4. If you are in an elevator and a woman gets in, don’t rape her.

5. When you encounter a woman who is asleep, the safest course of action is to not rape her.

6. Never creep into a woman’s home through an unlocked door or window, or spring out at her from between parked cars, or rape her.

7. Remember, people go to the laundry room to do their laundry. Do not attempt to molest someone who is alone in a laundry room.

8. Use the Buddy System! If it is inconvenient for you to stop yourself from raping women, ask a trusted friend to accompany you at all times.

9. Carry a rape whistle. If you find that you are about to rape someone, blow the whistle until someone comes to stop you.

10. Don’t forget: Honesty is the best policy. When asking a woman out on a date, don’t pretend that you are interested in her as a person; tell her straight up that you expect to be raping her later. If you don’t communicate your intentions, the woman may take it as a sign that you do not plan to rape her.


Rape Prevention

Posted by Leigh Hofheimer under Prevention

(via lukeisnotsexy)


sparklefap:

sailortits:

mynameislyddy:

Nice, but they’re still white, conventionally attractive, not visually trans* or disabled, neither of them have visable scarring, stretchmarks, etc, I mean, even on a basic body-positive note, neither of them have hair legs or armpits.
I’ve yet to see ONE graphic along these lines that actually include anything other than the chubby/skinny thing. Let’s see some fat, scarred and stretchmarked black trans women with prosthetic limbs or dwarfism or something, and hairy legs, maybe she’s got a shaped afro or something, natural black hair is looked down on by society.
Then I’ll get as excited as the rest of tumblr by these nicely drawn graphics.

YOU PEOPLE ARE NEVER HAPPY A RE YOU


IS THIS FUCKING BETTER??!?@»@?

sparklefap:

sailortits:

mynameislyddy:

Nice, but they’re still white, conventionally attractive, not visually trans* or disabled, neither of them have visable scarring, stretchmarks, etc, I mean, even on a basic body-positive note, neither of them have hair legs or armpits.

I’ve yet to see ONE graphic along these lines that actually include anything other than the chubby/skinny thing. Let’s see some fat, scarred and stretchmarked black trans women with prosthetic limbs or dwarfism or something, and hairy legs, maybe she’s got a shaped afro or something, natural black hair is looked down on by society.

Then I’ll get as excited as the rest of tumblr by these nicely drawn graphics.

YOU PEOPLE ARE NEVER HAPPY A RE YOU

image

IS THIS FUCKING BETTER??!?@»@?


deanprincesster:

bella-chans:

deanprincesster:

it’s so dumb that piercings and tattoos can impact your ability to find a job. employers shouldn’t be allowed to discriminate based on gender, race, sexual orientation, or level of punk-rockness

If you were about to have a surgery done, would you feel comfortable if she/he had gages and tattoos all over their face?

I mean presumably they went to medical school I literally would not give a single shit what they decided to put on their face


cosmic-rebirth:

The flowers, from Disney’s Alice in Wonderland.

cosmic-rebirth:

The flowers, from Disney’s Alice in Wonderland.


asmilinggoddess:

the year is 2014 AD. the human race has existed for over 200,000 years. men still think women pee out of the vagina.


tocifer:

thelethifoldwitch:

Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure –
But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.
Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.
Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.
Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured – by their classmates –for having been born.
Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle – but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)
Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.
Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again – the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone – the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?
Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.
Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.
Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes – in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.
Imagine the ghosts.
Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield – it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)
Imagine the students unable to trust each other – everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.
Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.
Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.
Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.
Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.
Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.
Imagine the students who leave the wixen world – hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.
Imagine the students who never use magic again.
(Image source.)
(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)

and furthermore, imagine all the hate this will breed for the years to come after, the chain reactions it will cause for the future, and possible revenge and war it will spark, the new generation of dark wizards

tocifer:

thelethifoldwitch:

Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure

But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.

Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.

Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.

Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured by their classmates for having been born.

Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)

Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.

Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?

Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.

Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.

Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.

Imagine the ghosts.

Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)

Imagine the students unable to trust each other everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.

Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.

Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.

Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.

Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.

Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.

Imagine the students who leave the wixen world hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.

Imagine the students who never use magic again.

(Image source.)

(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)

and furthermore, imagine all the hate this will breed for the years to come after, the chain reactions it will cause for the future, and possible revenge and war it will spark, the new generation of dark wizards


It was so much fun. I woke up every day of that shoot and couldn’t wait to get to set. We had twerking, which was so funny. Those girls were trying to teach me how, and it’s just never gonna happen. I tried really hard. They were teaching me what they do, and there’s like a science to it – they’re like digging their heels into the floor without you seeing their legs move, but their butts’ moving. It’s mind-blowing to me. They were explaining it all to me, and it’s so above my comprehension of how to understand your body.

Taylor Swift tells Rolling Stone about the video shoot (x)

tayorswift:

shake it off video simultaneously addressed: 

  • how people say she can’t dance
  • how people say she dates too much
  • how people say she’s too pop now

AND I LOVE IT


I keep seeing pictures on here of people with their guns in supermarkets??? How do Americans EVER feel safe??? I literally could not cope walking around even the most normal of places knowing that so many people had the power to kill me if they wanted to. Our police aren’t even allowed guns (and rightly so if recent events are anything to go by.)
Another, less terrifying thing (which I mentioned in another post) is that Americans have to pay for contraception??? They throw condoms around like confetti here for people under 25. I can get the pill or implant or any type of contraception I want for free for my entire life! And most medication.
Another thing that creeps me out is the fact kids have to say the pledge of allegiance with their hand over their heart everyday at school. It looks like fucking brainwashing
How can one of the most advanced countries in the world be so backwards?
England is far from the best, but I’m very grateful to live here sometimes 


Anonymous said: You mean only vegans have the right to campaign about ending animal cruelty? Way to go coming off as a classist.

acti-veg:

What about that assertion is classist? Your implication that vegan = middle class however, is classist. I am militantly working class, and ate very little meat even before I become vegan, because we could not afford it. The most impoverished people in the world eat plant based diets, meat is a luxury, it is only comparatively cheap in the west because we subsidise it to a ridiculous degree.

I am not convinced that you understand what classism is? Veganism is not a class. I am simply stating that you cannot campaign for animals to have rights, while simultaneously believing they do not have the right to be alive, the right for self-determination or the right to decide what is done with their own bodies. 98% of animals who are victims of abuse, are abused by the meat, dairy and egg industries… So are you just advocating for the remaining 2% to be treated well? 

I cannot legitimately advocate for women’s rights, while simultaneously engaging in misogynistic and sexist behaviour. I cannot campaign against animal cruelty, while living a lifestyle that promotes, funds and requires animal cruelty. The two positions are wholly incompatible. 

freakenvegan:

vegan-vulcan:

thereal-khaldrago:

buttermilkqueen:

dont u dare treat ur animals like shit in front of me i will end ur life son

Truth

"Totes fine to imprison them and torture and kill them behind closed doors though, I mean if I can’t eat bacon what’s the point of life" —the majority of the 300,000 people who reblogged this post

Buttermilk….

Animal cruelty can only apply to the fluffy, cute animals who don’t taste good remember? Or maybe those 300,000 people just don’t consider killing something years and years before it’s natural lifespan is over as cruelty. I’m sure they kill their puppies and kittens at about age 2 all the time. It’s nature isn’t it?


me, about to get mauled to death by a wolf: puppy! who's a handsome puppy

pondarling:

matt-smith:

do you ever just passionately miss the first series of doctor who but not just because you miss Nine but because you miss the monsters and the simple story lines that were new and so interesting and the companions that didn’t need a magic back story to be special and weren’t just a new puzzle for the doctor to solve they were just ordinary people with ordinary lives and taught (especially the young viewers) that anyone can be a hero i just really miss season one okay

image


jackpowerx:

geekygothgirl:

The original is good, the comment is STUNNING. Love it!

So, basically, this is a symbolic representation of internalized misogyny:

jackpowerx:

geekygothgirl:

The original is good, the comment is STUNNING. Love it!

So, basically, this is a symbolic representation of internalized misogyny:


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