omb wat is pretty person privilege
i mean obv women like samantha brick have shitloads of internalized misogyny and might be narcissists
but i wouldnt consider a woman super privileged simply for being attractive to men
awesome, maybe if i'm hot enough my boss will ask for sex in exchange for a promotion! i'm sooo lucky! just wtf
i mean obv women like samantha brick have shitloads of internalized misogyny and might be narcissists
but i wouldnt consider a woman super privileged simply for being attractive to men
awesome, maybe if i'm hot enough my boss will ask for sex in exchange for a promotion! i'm sooo lucky! just wtf
it's like thin privilege p much
misogynist crap
misogynist crap
i think it's hilarious because i know all you sjws judged samantha brick's looks too. you would just never admit it.
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“Fursuiting has a certain dimming effect on one’s senses.
My senses aren’t razor sharp on the best day, so cover me in fur, take away a good portion of my hearing and vision, and I become a tad ineffectual in navigating the world around me.
Rambling up the pier on a sunny Sunday, I became aware of a sudden heaviness in my right leg.”Uh oh,” I thought. “Stroke.”
Upon closer examination, I discovered that my difficulty walking was not caused by a blood clot, but rather this young man who had anchored himself to my side.
Relieved, I patted his head, gave him the happy paws and looked around for the camera. Surely his parents were taking pictures of their giddy son and the giant canine.
It was then I realized that he was sobbing, and no cameras, let alone parental units, were in evidence.
Dogs I understand. Children are a mystery to me. Worried that I had crushed his little foot, or smacked him with my tail, I asked him what was the matter.
“I can’t find my daddy!” He said between hiccups. “That’s OK,” I said. ‘I’ll sniff him out for you.” “Really? You promise?” He gripped me tighter and brightened a little. “Of course! I’m a search and rescue dog. No problem.”
He grinned and held my paw and I then realized that I had better locate pops post haste or the kid would grow up not to trust talking dogs. I couldn’t have that.
We walked slowly up the pier, searching for daddy, both trying to smile for the tourists. Little Carlos related that his papa had been fishing, but had moved to a new spot on the rail. The kid had walked over to look at a seagull, and somehow lost track of his dad’s position. I wagged. I was looking for a guy fishing from the pier, and that narrowed my search to only a few hundred blokes. Piece of cake.
“What does your daddy look like?” I asked. “He’s wearing a white t-shirt.” Carlos offered. I looked around. So were 90% of the others fishing.
Sensing that I needed more information, he thought hard for a moment. “He fishes with squid!” He exclaimed, convinced that hunk of knowledge would lead us to pops like no other.
We walked up and down the pier. Twice. Carlos started to cry again, and I felt a peculiar mix of compassion, panic and failure. What if we never found his dad? I’d have to raise him as my own. Where would he sleep? What do kids eat? Kids grow up so fast. How could I afford shoes and tiny fursuits every 6 months?
Just when we were both about to dissolve into sobbing puddles,a frantic man came running towards us, brandishing a fishing rod and a look of profound relief. I’ll never forget it.
“Mijo!” He exclaimed, scooping up the kid and hugging him so tightI thought he might pop. They were both crying and smiling and a flood of relief washed over me. I wouldn’t have to worry about making pint sized DTD’s after all….
Carlos Sr. shook my paw vigorously and thanked me again and again for taking the time to help his boy. He had no idea howthey became separated, but a nice lady on the end of the piertold him that a talking dog was wandering around with a lost kiddo.At least I was easy to spot.
As father and son resumed their day of pescatory bliss, I feltlike a very good dog. Crisis averted, I continued my stroll, heading decidedly for the watering hole with the coldest beer.
I may not be much of a search and rescue dog, but I felt like it at that moment.”
My senses aren’t razor sharp on the best day, so cover me in fur, take away a good portion of my hearing and vision, and I become a tad ineffectual in navigating the world around me.
Rambling up the pier on a sunny Sunday, I became aware of a sudden heaviness in my right leg.”Uh oh,” I thought. “Stroke.”
Upon closer examination, I discovered that my difficulty walking was not caused by a blood clot, but rather this young man who had anchored himself to my side.
Relieved, I patted his head, gave him the happy paws and looked around for the camera. Surely his parents were taking pictures of their giddy son and the giant canine.
It was then I realized that he was sobbing, and no cameras, let alone parental units, were in evidence.
Dogs I understand. Children are a mystery to me. Worried that I had crushed his little foot, or smacked him with my tail, I asked him what was the matter.
“I can’t find my daddy!” He said between hiccups. “That’s OK,” I said. ‘I’ll sniff him out for you.” “Really? You promise?” He gripped me tighter and brightened a little. “Of course! I’m a search and rescue dog. No problem.”
He grinned and held my paw and I then realized that I had better locate pops post haste or the kid would grow up not to trust talking dogs. I couldn’t have that.
We walked slowly up the pier, searching for daddy, both trying to smile for the tourists. Little Carlos related that his papa had been fishing, but had moved to a new spot on the rail. The kid had walked over to look at a seagull, and somehow lost track of his dad’s position. I wagged. I was looking for a guy fishing from the pier, and that narrowed my search to only a few hundred blokes. Piece of cake.
“What does your daddy look like?” I asked. “He’s wearing a white t-shirt.” Carlos offered. I looked around. So were 90% of the others fishing.
Sensing that I needed more information, he thought hard for a moment. “He fishes with squid!” He exclaimed, convinced that hunk of knowledge would lead us to pops like no other.
We walked up and down the pier. Twice. Carlos started to cry again, and I felt a peculiar mix of compassion, panic and failure. What if we never found his dad? I’d have to raise him as my own. Where would he sleep? What do kids eat? Kids grow up so fast. How could I afford shoes and tiny fursuits every 6 months?
Just when we were both about to dissolve into sobbing puddles,a frantic man came running towards us, brandishing a fishing rod and a look of profound relief. I’ll never forget it.
“Mijo!” He exclaimed, scooping up the kid and hugging him so tightI thought he might pop. They were both crying and smiling and a flood of relief washed over me. I wouldn’t have to worry about making pint sized DTD’s after all….
Carlos Sr. shook my paw vigorously and thanked me again and again for taking the time to help his boy. He had no idea howthey became separated, but a nice lady on the end of the piertold him that a talking dog was wandering around with a lost kiddo.At least I was easy to spot.
As father and son resumed their day of pescatory bliss, I feltlike a very good dog. Crisis averted, I continued my stroll, heading decidedly for the watering hole with the coldest beer.
I may not be much of a search and rescue dog, but I felt like it at that moment.”
How could I afford shoes and tiny fursuits every 6 months?
wat
wat
so one of my student loan collectors just called me bc i'm like... 3 months past due. i'm unemployed and living with my parents.
i've been trying to get deferments but obviously i can't bc my loans are past due. i explained to her that there was no way for me to pay at the moment, and what could i do etc, and she was like "uh, yeah, nothing. sorry."
what do i do :(
i've been trying to get deferments but obviously i can't bc my loans are past due. i explained to her that there was no way for me to pay at the moment, and what could i do etc, and she was like "uh, yeah, nothing. sorry."
what do i do :(
is there anything you can pay at all?
paying them something will show you intend to pay. most lenders will work with you if you show intent to pay
paying them something will show you intend to pay. most lenders will work with you if you show intent to pay
http://sf-drama.livejournal.com/3350306.html?thread=634077218#t634077218
Her actual appearance is neither here nor there.
yeah except you made it a point to comment on her appearance, backtracking asshole
Her actual appearance is neither here nor there.
yeah except you made it a point to comment on her appearance, backtracking asshole
i just got a new duvet cover and sheets, so excited
i actually cleaned my apartment b/c i told myself - you can't put your new stuff on the bed until the apartment is as clean as these sheets
i actually cleaned my apartment b/c i told myself - you can't put your new stuff on the bed until the apartment is as clean as these sheets
i stopped following naruto long ago but i used to ship them
i wouldn't call it a privilege but let's face it being conventionally attractive has many advantages
can we screen all the porny crap right now? seems rly fucked up after what just got posted.
the vet just left. it was very quick and not traumatic, although she did say "you left this a long time," which made me feel awful.
but now i think i'm going to take a benadryl and try to sleep through the night for the first time in a week.
but now i think i'm going to take a benadryl and try to sleep through the night for the first time in a week.
biba you did all you could. hope you are okay
ugh is that what got posted? so sorry nona <3
lmao zuko on a cliff in a rainy mountain yelling at the sky to throw lightning at him
omg zuko stop being so dramatic for once in your life
omg zuko stop being so dramatic for once in your life
stupid mail
why can't commercial teleportation exist already
why can't commercial teleportation exist already
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