Cariad

assgod:


bukakkedad:

katwaterflame:

josiephone:

Apparently some vegans are telling people not to eat honey to support bees.STOP. STOP NOW.DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW BEES WORK?Buy honey (local if possible) -> support beekeepers -> support bees.I swear people don’t even think this stuff out. Beekeepers provide bees with an environment in which they can live, and are encouraged to thrive. Bees then have a big huge giant person who can deal with any threats to the hive. Yes, honey is a winter food supply for bees, but beekeepers (unless they’re dicks, in which case they’d be shooting themselves in the foot) will NEVER take too much honey from a hive, and will always ensure that bees have enough food. Think about it, you’re not going to starve a source of income/hobby, are you?So now.Support beekeepers.Support bees.buzz.

I had to reblog just for “DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW BEES WORK?" because it made me realize that some people really don’t!

save them

SAVE THEM!!

assgod:

bukakkedad:

katwaterflame:

josiephone:

Apparently some vegans are telling people not to eat honey to support bees.

STOP. STOP NOW.
DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW BEES WORK?

Buy honey (local if possible) -> support beekeepers -> support bees.

I swear people don’t even think this stuff out. 
Beekeepers provide bees with an environment in which they can live, and are encouraged to thrive. Bees then have a big huge giant person who can deal with any threats to the hive. 
Yes, honey is a winter food supply for bees, but beekeepers (unless they’re dicks, in which case they’d be shooting themselves in the foot) will NEVER take too much honey from a hive, and will always ensure that bees have enough food. Think about it, you’re not going to starve a source of income/hobby, are you?

So now.
Support beekeepers.
Support bees.

buzz.

I had to reblog just for “DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW BEES WORK?" because it made me realize that some people really don’t!

save them

SAVE THEM!!

(via baby-make-it-hurt)

drillheadonfire:

whats the difference between bi people and unicorns

i can see unicorns on movies and tv

(via stilesandhisalpha)

storyofagayboy:

***URGENT PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT***
Grindr, a popular app for gay men, now carries an urgent warning for users in Egypt. According to many sources, Egyptian authorities are posing as LGBT people on various social media sites to identify and arrest homosexual people. The app is urging users in the region to proceed with extreme caution, especially when identifying themselves or arranging meetings/hookups. While so far the focus seems to be on gay men, all LGBT people in the area should be cautious. Reports show that Egyptian police have carried out violent raids on private homes which lead to the arrests of several gay men. These men were then subjected to disturbing medical “exams.” Police also raided an LGBT party last year, violently arresting many and sentencing them to up to 12 years hard labour. While homosexuality is not illegal in Egypt, athorities are using sexual deviance, debauchery and insulting public morals as terms for the crackdown. Many claim this fresh attack on the LGBT community is lead by President Abdel-Fattah Al-Sisi who wishes for his country to be more Islamic.
For all of my LGBT friends here on tumblr, please be extremely careful as this situation develops. Remember to clear your search history, use private browsing if possible, and be extremely cautious with who you talk to online.

storyofagayboy:

***URGENT PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT***

Grindr, a popular app for gay men, now carries an urgent warning for users in Egypt. According to many sources, Egyptian authorities are posing as LGBT people on various social media sites to identify and arrest homosexual people. The app is urging users in the region to proceed with extreme caution, especially when identifying themselves or arranging meetings/hookups. While so far the focus seems to be on gay men, all LGBT people in the area should be cautious. Reports show that Egyptian police have carried out violent raids on private homes which lead to the arrests of several gay men. These men were then subjected to disturbing medical “exams.” Police also raided an LGBT party last year, violently arresting many and sentencing them to up to 12 years hard labour. While homosexuality is not illegal in Egypt, athorities are using sexual deviance, debauchery and insulting public morals as terms for the crackdown. Many claim this fresh attack on the LGBT community is lead by President Abdel-Fattah Al-Sisi who wishes for his country to be more Islamic.

For all of my LGBT friends here on tumblr, please be extremely careful as this situation develops. Remember to clear your search history, use private browsing if possible, and be extremely cautious with who you talk to online.

(via stilesandhisalpha)

belishabeacons:

The rape culture continues because you let it
When I went to trial against my ex boyfriend, I lost on a technicality. Not because he didn’t admit to: being physically and psychologically abusive to me, harassing me, stalking me, or violating police orders not to talk to me. He did admit to those things- to the police- in his statement after he was arrested. No, the reason I lost was because, when I was forced to hand over all contact I’d had between us, I failed to share a conversation we had had on gchat with the police. One in which I explicitly stated that I felt he had sometimes coerced me into sex; he denied this repeatedly, stating we had an ‘insanely good’ sex life.I didn’t hand this conversation over because I thought that the law wanted examples of his abuse, his harassment.  I was wrong.The law wanted me to point out, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had done wrong by me and I had never taken any agency to counter him.
And so I lost. I went home for Christmas and I tried not to think about it. I tried to stop labelling what happened to me, I tried to stop reading blogs that illuminated my struggle, I tried to put it behind me.Every now and then, though, I’d come across something that reminded me. An ad for Mallorca- and I’m transported to a vacation we took together where he had sex with me without a condom (which I didn’t know about) and then ejaculated inside me without my consent. When I asked him why, he smiled- I was stuck on an island that did not offer the morning after pill over the counter, and he knew that. At the time, I knew that felt wrong. Now I know that was something called reproductive abuse.But I move on, ignoring other memories that come to the surface. “Grey sex” only makes me think of this time, when I was 19 years old, and he cajoled me into making a sex video with him, even though I protested (although not strongly) against it. At one point, he switched me into a position that exposed my body more to the camera. “No,” I said softly. “Come on,” he said. “No,” I said more forcefully. “It’s my birthday video,” he muttered. I relented.He would play that video sometimes when we had sex with the volume turned up high. I could just about hear myself saying “no, no, no.”Rainy mornings with a drier chill remind me of a nebulous number of times, how many I can’t tell you because I don’t remember them, where we were lying in his bed. He poked at me, calling me fat- his favorite abuse was appearance-based- and asked me to have sex with him. No, I’d ask. No, I’d plead. More ‘you’re fat’ would come at me until I said yes. Then, on top of me:
"Why aren’t you enjoying this? God dammnit, why aren’t you enjoying this?"All of these instances are examples of what the law would not hold up as rape. I sometimes even doubt myself labelling them as such; I feel guilty, lesser than someone who has been forcefully assaulted against their will. This isn’t rape. What happened to me wasn’t rape.What happened to me wasn’t abuse, I say. In the middle of the night, I wake up and feel the overwhelming urge to email him, asking him for forgiveness for taking him to trial. It was my fault- if I had shared that gchat conversation, it would have never gone to trial, and he would just have been arrested, released, and he would have maybe been scared enough to never contact me again.It was my fault. It was my fault that, one day when walking down the street, he raised his hand high above my head, and brought it inches away from my face. I cowered; he laughed. “Why the fuck would you do that?” I asked. He smiled, always. “Because you were raising your voice on the street. Why do you have to be so loud?”I tell myself it wasn’t that big of a deal that he pulled me by my hair, by my pixie cut, and told me I was a little girl. Women suffer worse, people suffer worse. It’s my fault that I obsess about it.And when he choked me in a bush until I either passed out or blacked out from panic- well, I shouldn’t obsess about that either. I wasn’t killed. I wasn’t even that harmed- just a scraped up knee. I slept the night in a guest room in his house, and his flatmates told me they’d look after me and make sure he didn’t come home. He did, he yelled at me, and the next morning I fell asleep in his bed again while I heard him tell his flatmate, “I think I was just waiting for an excuse to break up with her for a long time.”I tell myself it’s my fault these things happened because I went back to him. I went back to him so many times; I went back to him every second. Not because I loved him, not because I wanted him, but because I didn’t know if I had the strength to exist without him. And so you tell me: the rape culture exists because I let it. Because my words are not enough. Because shame is not enough.I used the law. I tried to get him the mental help he needed. I still lost.My words to him made me lose.So what are my words now?

belishabeacons:

The rape culture continues because you let it

When I went to trial against my ex boyfriend, I lost on a technicality. Not because he didn’t admit to: being physically and psychologically abusive to me, harassing me, stalking me, or violating police orders not to talk to me. He did admit to those things- to the police- in his statement after he was arrested. 

No, the reason I lost was because, when I was forced to hand over all contact I’d had between us, I failed to share a conversation we had had on gchat with the police. One in which I explicitly stated that I felt he had sometimes coerced me into sex; he denied this repeatedly, stating we had an ‘insanely good’ sex life.

I didn’t hand this conversation over because I thought that the law wanted examples of his abuse, his harassment.  I was wrong.

The law wanted me to point out, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had done wrong by me and I had never taken any agency to counter him.

And so I lost. I went home for Christmas and I tried not to think about it. I tried to stop labelling what happened to me, I tried to stop reading blogs that illuminated my struggle, I tried to put it behind me.

Every now and then, though, I’d come across something that reminded me. An ad for Mallorca- and I’m transported to a vacation we took together where he had sex with me without a condom (which I didn’t know about) and then ejaculated inside me without my consent. When I asked him why, he smiled- I was stuck on an island that did not offer the morning after pill over the counter, and he knew that. At the time, I knew that felt wrong. Now I know that was something called reproductive abuse.

But I move on, ignoring other memories that come to the surface. “Grey sex” only makes me think of this time, when I was 19 years old, and he cajoled me into making a sex video with him, even though I protested (although not strongly) against it. At one point, he switched me into a position that exposed my body more to the camera. “No,” I said softly. “Come on,” he said. “No,” I said more forcefully. “It’s my birthday video,” he muttered. I relented.

He would play that video sometimes when we had sex with the volume turned up high. I could just about hear myself saying “no, no, no.”

Rainy mornings with a drier chill remind me of a nebulous number of times, how many I can’t tell you because I don’t remember them, where we were lying in his bed. He poked at me, calling me fat- his favorite abuse was appearance-based- and asked me to have sex with him. No, I’d ask. No, I’d plead. More ‘you’re fat’ would come at me until I said yes. Then, on top of me:

"Why aren’t you enjoying this? God dammnit, why aren’t you enjoying this?"

All of these instances are examples of what the law would not hold up as rape. I sometimes even doubt myself labelling them as such; I feel guilty, lesser than someone who has been forcefully assaulted against their will. This isn’t rape. What happened to me wasn’t rape.

What happened to me wasn’t abuse, I say. In the middle of the night, I wake up and feel the overwhelming urge to email him, asking him for forgiveness for taking him to trial. It was my fault- if I had shared that gchat conversation, it would have never gone to trial, and he would just have been arrested, released, and he would have maybe been scared enough to never contact me again.

It was my fault. 

It was my fault that, one day when walking down the street, he raised his hand high above my head, and brought it inches away from my face. I cowered; he laughed. “Why the fuck would you do that?” I asked. He smiled, always. “Because you were raising your voice on the street. Why do you have to be so loud?”

I tell myself it wasn’t that big of a deal that he pulled me by my hair, by my pixie cut, and told me I was a little girl. Women suffer worse, people suffer worse. It’s my fault that I obsess about it.

And when he choked me in a bush until I either passed out or blacked out from panic- well, I shouldn’t obsess about that either. I wasn’t killed. I wasn’t even that harmed- just a scraped up knee. I slept the night in a guest room in his house, and his flatmates told me they’d look after me and make sure he didn’t come home. He did, he yelled at me, and the next morning I fell asleep in his bed again while I heard him tell his flatmate, “I think I was just waiting for an excuse to break up with her for a long time.”

I tell myself it’s my fault these things happened because I went back to him. I went back to him so many times; I went back to him every second. Not because I loved him, not because I wanted him, but because I didn’t know if I had the strength to exist without him. 

And so you tell me: the rape culture exists because I let it. Because my words are not enough. Because shame is not enough.

I used the law. I tried to get him the mental help he needed. I still lost.

My words to him made me lose.

So what are my words now?

(via baby-make-it-hurt)

bakrua:

bewbin:

Why do people drink alcohol it tastes disgusting

you don’t drink it for the taste. u drink shit like apple juice for the taste. you drink alcohol to get rid of the bad taste that every awful person in your life has left

(via stilesandhisalpha)

melbournecomedyfashion:

BONUS POST:
"Smell my brown leather" Dave Warneke pleads.

Chevrons Comedy, The Butterfly Club
19 September 2014

melbournecomedyfashion:

BONUS POST:

"Smell my brown leather" Dave Warneke pleads.

Chevrons Comedy, The Butterfly Club

19 September 2014

melbournecomedyfashion:

Travis Nash knows his high fashion poses!
Here, he strikes an atomic-bomb-blast stance creating a dramatic image that helps sell the garments. In the event of an actual explosion, he has his Fiona Apple playlist geared up to transport him away from the horror.
Sinful Stories, The Tuxedo Cat
26 September 2014

melbournecomedyfashion:

Travis Nash knows his high fashion poses!

Here, he strikes an atomic-bomb-blast stance creating a dramatic image that helps sell the garments. In the event of an actual explosion, he has his Fiona Apple playlist geared up to transport him away from the horror.

Sinful Stories, The Tuxedo Cat

26 September 2014

melbournecomedyfashion:

Luke McGregor suspects The Imperial Hotel is haunted. 
In his floral print shirt and khaki utility jacket, this modern-day Shaggy is onto the case.
It was Mr Callan all along!!!
Hook Live Read (Secret Show), The Imperial Hotel
29 September 2014

melbournecomedyfashion:

Luke McGregor suspects The Imperial Hotel is haunted.

In his floral print shirt and khaki utility jacket, this modern-day Shaggy is onto the case.

It was Mr Callan all along!!!

Hook Live Read (Secret Show), The Imperial Hotel

29 September 2014

(via eflind)

eflind:

If you didn’t catch the TOFOP livestream from LA, the video is now up. It’s pretty great. http://lapodfest.com/live/

Also, you can tell how drunk wherethewilthingsare is by the number of times he says “fuck you” to the audience (adorably). 

eflind:

Todd Glass’s was fucking awesome on the I Love Green Guide Letters podcast. Especially his reactions to Ash Williams. I could watch hours of him reacting to hearing tales from Ash’s life. 

FOFOP Episode 151 - PTSD

tofopquotes:

On James Fosdike’s poster art:

Wil: It’s so much better than I could’ve imagined. Why are you even asking me for input?! This is better than my show! I have to write a better show now!