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September 5th, 2013 2 notes

Tips for Improving Street Harassment

Tips for Improving Street Harassment

Link: Welcome to Flavor Country: My plan to end street harassment forever →

reblogged from Welcome to Flavor Country.

August 20th, 2013 7,141 notes

For the record, I don’t condone violence, but my friend Jon is using humor to make a point. I dread walking to the post office because it feels like I’m on parade. There are certain neighborhoods where dudes just aren’t taught basic manners.

flavorcountry:

I have a plan that will stop street harassment for all time. It goes like this:

  • All women are now allowed to carry swords.
  • All women get 20 free hours of sword training.
  • All women are allowed to cut a fool without suffering legal consequences once per calendar month.

Fine points and…

Laughs aside, street harassment is a huge issue. Check out ihollaback.org, an organization trying to do something (non-violent) about it in NYC. Be safe out there.

Video

August 20th, 2013

Honda Civic using inspiration to market their latest Honda Civic. Lovely. More of this, please.

Link: There can only be Uno · Ben Ward →

August 18th, 2013

New rules to spice up your Uno life

reblogged from Bustr Bensn.

August 18th, 2013 96,055 notes

bustr:

“He waited until the train was in motion to make his move—a true sign of someone who knows how to make the environment work to their advantage. Then he leaned forward. “Hi.” “How you doing?” “What are you reading?” “What’s your name?” “I really like your hair.” “That’s a really nice skirt.” “You must work out.” It was painful to watch. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him, and he clearly wasn’t going to take the hint. Her rebukes got firmer. “I’d like to read my book.” And he pulled out the social pressure. “Hey, I’m just asking you a question. You don’t have to be so rude.” She started to look around for outs. Her head swiveled from one exit to another.

The thing was, I had already heard this story, many many times. I knew how it would play out. I knew all the tropes. I probably could have quoted the lines before they said them. I wanted a new narrative. Time to mix it up. So I moved seats until I was sitting behind him. I leaned forward with my head on the back of his seat. “Hi,” I said with a little smile. He looked at me like I was a little crazy—which isn’t exactly untrue—and turned back to her. “How are you doing?” I asked. “I’m fine,” he said flatly without ever looking back. “I really like your hair,” I said. “It looks soft.”

That’s about when it got…..weird. He sort of half turned and glared back me, and I could tell I was pissing him off. His eyes told me to back the hell away, and his lips were pressed together tightly enough to drain the color from them completely.

But no good story ever ends with the conflict just defusing. He started to turn back to her. “Wait, don’t be like that,” I said. “Lemmie just ask you one question…” “What!” he said in that you-have-clearly-gone-too-far voice that is part of the freshmen year finals at the school of machismo. And I’m not exactly a hundred percent sure why I didn’t call it a day at that point, but…..maybe I just love turning the screw to see what happens. I gave him the bedroomy-est eyes I could muster. “What’s your name?”

Right now I’m sitting here typing out this story, and I’m still not entirely sure why I’m not nursing a fat lip or a black eye. Because that obviously made him so mad that I still am not sure why it didn’t come to blows. There are cliches about eyes flaring and rage behind someones eyes and shit like that that are so overdone. But it really does look like that. When someone gets violent, their eyes just kind of “pop” with intention—pupils dilate, eyelids widen. And his did. Even sitting down he was clearly bigger than me and I was pretty sure he was kind of muscular too, so at that moment I was figuring I was probably going to need an ice pack and sympathy sex from my girlfriend by day’s end. “DUDE,” he shouted. “I’M NOT GAY.” That’s when I dropped the bedroom eyes and switched to a normal voice. “Oh well I could see not being interested didn’t matter to you when you were hitting on her, so I just thought that’s how you rolled.”

Writing About Writing (And Occasionally Some Writing): Changing The Creepy Guy Narrative (via veruca-assault)

instant reblog

(via koi-ms)

Photo

July 19th, 2013

"…all these girls sparkle with something so enviably fresh, free-spirited and charming, we might just run off to the circus." — Rare Color Photos of Circus Showgirls of the ’40s and ’50s

"…all these girls sparkle with something so enviably fresh, free-spirited and charming, we might just run off to the circus." — Rare Color Photos of Circus Showgirls of the ’40s and ’50s

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photo of Sarah A blog of things that amuse Sarah Harrison, a designer in San Francisco who likes cheese.

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