“You might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physically or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.”
- Bruce Lee
gambit and jin are my cartoon/video game crushesGREAT OPENING OR GREATEST OPENING?
I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR THE THEME SONG IN YOUR HEAD
(Source: randomweas, via tarzanbboy)
No one, and I mean no one deserves this.don’t care if your a bieber, hipster, one direction, kardashian, janoskian blog. you all need to watch this and reblog it
tyler would’ve been my best friend if i were this age! our future is looking grim folks. we need to beat out kids ASSES.
ok ok im kidding.
that probably increases the bullying.
we need to parent. PARENT. not expect the state or school to do something.
(Source: theerex-t, via tarzanbboy)
Girl News - Girls and the Rules
Not the fucking The Rules. Just, “the rules.” The rules of girls. Actually, there is a new version of The Rulesbook out (I read about it on HuffPost Women by accident, sorrysorrysorry) which is subtitled “The New Secrets for Dating,” when in reality the new secrets of dating are that a) by now “dating” barely exists and b) that’s it, there’s only one secret, c) maybe the other secret is that “dating” is a revolting word and concept anyway, like, way to make these corny little appointments to audition each other for sex, d) I actually really like dating; it’s obviously ultrafun to spend a few hours hanging out and going “Oh!” about every new discovery. Dating is the same as hanging out with small children at the mall. So whatever, anyway, “the rules” as they pertain to girls are, I guess, nothing less than an instructional spray of lead slugs that come from all sides (like pals/boys/the retarded dominant culture), all the time. It doesn’t mean you have to follow the rules, but know that they remain. Just, like, tuck them in your shorts’ back pocket, and then forget about it.
GIRLSPLAINING
Do you know what mansplaining is? Whenever I think of it I usually just drift away to Manswers, the show, which is different. Usually, the non-resource Urban Dictionary (which is sub-Yahoo Answers and not even fun anymore) is The Worst and So Embarrassing To Our General Demographic but in this matter, look: “To explain in a patronizing manner, assuming total ignorance on the part of those listening. The mansplainer is often shocked and hurt when their mansplanation is not taken as absolute fact, criticized, or even rejected altogether.” That’s a super appropriate and reasonable definition, Urban Dictionary, so I firmly shake the cummy, weak, pastry-pale hand of whatever basement-teenager wrote it.
When I posted all over my friend Jon’s Facebook wall about why saying that some tiny actress’ “slight frame” was somehow counter to her “candor and frustration” was wildly sexist and weird and would never be applicable to a man (with exceptions made for rarely used “Napoleon complex”-type shit) and then ended with “That’s all! Easy!” I was girlsplaining. I mean, I was right. I was really right, and it is important for girls (you) and guys (I see you) to always pull out those assumptive, annoying loose threads of sexism, and to do it in a way that socially shames whoever was being dickly. BUT, do it fast and come correct, or else you’re just Lisa Simpson-ing them back into their filthy, calcified brain-shells. That’s a girlsplain.
RELATED
Do you remember that “Working Our Nerves” column in Sassy that was called “The Annoying New Boy Feminism” and it was about “Sensitive New Age boys who will not shut up” and “Boys who bellow ‘I’ll tell you what a feminist is today!’” and “Boys who sob ‘No, we’re more oppressed!’”? That came out when I was 13 and now I’m old enough to buy anything I want (and yet not old enough to feel bad about it, a.k.a. YAHTZEE). Do you remember that in that same issue they only give Superchunk’s Foolish three hearts? PFFFFFFFT, THEN/NOW/FOREVER.
PERSONAL MANDATES
My thing is I don’t call boys, because my sisters told me not to. “Don’t call boys” is my personal mandate. That’s kind of The Rules-y, accidentally. I just like order. It’s not that important what your personal mandate/s is or are, or that you have one/some, it’s just cool to impose a little rulesyness on your own self. “I only do texts on the weekend” is an example. “Twitter is beneath me,” like that. “Pants are ugly,” maybe.
BOYFRIENDS
The rules for boyfriends as they relate to the rest of your life are as follows: 1) The initial phase of denying all other worldly concerns while you get fucked constantly can last for three months, after which you have to return all friend-communications. 2) If your friend asks you to hang out, she is asking you to hang out, not you and your boyfriend to hang out. 3) You know what your friend has to say if you ask “Can I bring my boyfriend?” which makes it not a question at all, which puts you in violation of the second rule. 3) Presumably you want stuff to remain good with your boyfriend so how about spend a few hours apart every once in a while so you have something to say to him about a thing in the world other than whatever season of TV you are watching? 4) If you have to “check in” with your boyfriend before hanging out, the offer to hang out is rescinded. 5) Lesbians are so, so much worse, so don’t even really worry about it.
cited, section BOYFRIENDS, answer 2.
enough said.
