i like that we say “oh, man” to express disappointment
because men are disappointing
addyaguilerasaid:Congratulations! Michigan is amazing you’ll love it.
Thank you!! I am beyond excited for this! :)
multifandom challenge ✖ (4/50) movies ↳ titanic
Let’s not beat around the bush here…
OR SHALL WE?!
Why the fuck is she cuddling with Tampax at what appears to be a pool that is also the ocean?
I want a tampon commercial where the women are fighting zombies or some shit.
And they’re all beat up and bloody and shoving tampons into bullet wounds to stop the bleeding.
And I want one of the ladies to full-on decapitate a zombie with a machete or maybe a scythe.
And then I want her to look directly into the camera with blood running from an open wound on her forehead and say,
“For the fighting spirit.”
^ That commercial would win all of the Oscars.
That commercial would make more sense that all this faffing about through the fields of daisies and cuddling your fucking tampons bullshit…
What are you talking about?
I sit by the pool/ocean cuddle my tampons all the fucking time.
Who wants to start a tampon company with me just so we can make that commercial?
What would it be called, Tampocalypse? I’d be game if it were called Tampocalypse.
reblogging for the priceless notes
FOR THE FIGHTING SPIRIT.
Well periods aren’t all ‘Let me parade around in my motherfucking white bikini at the beach and shake my ass around in front of the hot boys while snuggling my tampon box”
IT’S LITERALLY A BLOOD BATH!!
IT’S A WAR!
IF YOU GET IN MY WAY, FUCKER I WILL KNOCK YOU THE FUCK OUT!
Reblogging for the comments
this is the best chain of comments ever. period.
can I be a shareholder?
Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”
It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.
And I got angry.
Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”
Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)
If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.
Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be keptinterested, because he knows you are interesting:
I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.
I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.
I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.
I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.
I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.
I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.
I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.
In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:
Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.
Your eternally interested guy,
Happy International Women’s Day
carrie underwood + thanking/mentioning mike fisher while accepting an award
Elie Saab Collection
my favourite thing ever
Joan Rivers on the Ed Sullivan Show, 1967 (x)
HOW IN THE WORLD DID SHE TALK LIKE THIS BACK THEN AND END UP HOSTING A SHOW TEARING APART WHAT PEOPLE LOOK FOR A FRIGGING LIVING????
Let me tell you about the sheer brilliance that is Meryl Streep and her creation of Miranda Priestly.
Ask any young woman what her favourite film of Meryl’s would be, and I’m quite certain that The Devil Wears Prada would come up in conversation, favourite or not. And it may seem like a generic answer: oh, a film about fashion, so obviously women would identify with it. No, that’s not it. This film isn’t about fashion. This film, as Meryl says, “is a story about a woman at the head of a corporate ladder who’s misunderstood, who’s motives and pressures on her are intense and who doesn’t have time to play certain nice games.”
And though screentime and first bill casting can indicate that Andrea Sachs is the main character, who are you really left thinking about at the end of the film?
Miranda Priestly — the woman who was written as a fictional equivalent to Anna Wintour from the novelist Lauren Weisberger’s experience as her assistant — in the novel was a raging, two-dimensional boss from Hell written only to antagonize and complicate the lives of her employees with impossible standards and even more impossible demands. She was expected to resemble Vogue’s editor-in-chief (Miranda’s office in the film a near replica of Anna’s), so imagine everyone’s fucking surprise the first day Meryl showed up on set wearing an untested wig white as snow, with a voice that never raised, where the most deadly delivery was a whisper.
But this scene on the right, this scene that hadn’t existed until Meryl went and thought, “wait a minute, there’s an imbalance of character here…” so she brought it to light and this was written. Sparingly, as it was said, yet one of the very few scenes to be altered in the entire film. This is how it went: Meryl showed up to the scene without any make-up. She walked in, didn’t talk to anybody, sat down and did it, got up and left, went downstairs and waited. She did this scene once.
And the thing is, this wasn’t meant for you to suddenly cheer for Miranda; it was to show you that she was human and that her success came with a costly price that hurt her the most. She thawed the Snow Queen, extinguished the flames of the fiery boss from Hell and gave her what she never had on paper: substance.
If completely reinventing a character from a subpar novel by giving her actual character and successfully distinguishing her from the woman she was based on isn’t considered pure talent, then I don’t know what is.