A white woman is promoted: Whose dick did she suck?
A man of color is promoted: Oh, great, I guess we have to “fill quotas” now.
A woman of color is promoted: j/k. That never happens. Accurate as fuck comment (via the-wolfbats)
do you ever just kinda wonder what your selling point as a human being or friend is? like, what was the point at which people were like: hey, I’ll keep this human
you ever notice a lot of stuff is considered poor and gross unless its upper middle class (white) people doing it
food trucks in the 90s were the realm of taco trucks and fairground food and were always considered unhygienic and nasty until all these rich city kids started opening food trucks and now they’re “trendy” and “innovative”
riding your bike to work is only considered geofriendly if you can also afford to drive a car but don’t want to, then you’re saving the earth, everyone else isn’t somehow??
recycling old cheap stuff to be used as furniture and wearing really old clothing is a sign of poverty unless you’re doing it a certain way or wearing a certain kind of old clothing
double standards are gross and you should expose them in your life as much as possible
also worth noting that dumpster diving is becoming super trendy in some areas because middle class white people have gotten into it
Anonymous said: hockey, alice, more hockey, hockey boys, and verlain
pretty accurate tbh :)
I opened this text post and then I forgot what I was going to type
what/who do you associate with me?
I’m curious. What are the, say, top 5 things you associate with me?
Can be a tumblr user, a book, movie, character, actor etc
I’m going to see a charity hockey game this weekend, and then I’ll be on holiday for a while, and likelihood of internet access is pretty slim. Contactable via twitter @ julia_m_t (don’t worry about the lock, I’ll accept, it’s for other side of the Fourth Wall and professional reasons) and e-mail
see you on the other side! stay safe, have a good week :)
Sometimes I think about how many little things we probably do every day that would totally mess up the reasoning of a Sherlock-Holmes-style detective.
Like the other day we went to the cinema and I was wearing a shirt with no pockets so I put the ticket in my trouser pocket. The next day I was wearing the same trousers and I put my hand in my pocket and found the ticket there.
Now, I have a certain selection of things I always have in my trouser pockets and I don’t really like having anything else in there because it confuses my hands when I want to get something, so I took the ticket out. And I wasn’t near a rubbish bin, but I was wearing a shirt with a breast pocket. So I put the ticket in the shirt pocket.
And I thought: if I get interestingly murdered, the Sherlock-Holmes-style detective is going to deduce that I’m wearing the same shirt that I wore yesterday. Because it’s got a cinema ticket in the pocket with yesterday’s date on, and why on earth would anyone put a cinema ticket in the pocket of a shirt unless they were wearing the shirt when they went to the cinema?
Which is a bit of reasoning we would all find totally convincing if it came from a Sherlock-Holmes-style detective. But it would be wrong. Because actually there are so many other explanations for things once you take account of the fact that people are often slightly eccentric in completely trivial and unguessable ways.
“Samuel Vimes dreamed about Clues. He had a jaundiced view of Clues. He instinctively distrusted them. They got in the way. And he distrusted the kind of person who’d take one look at another man and say in a lordly voice to his companion, “Ah, my dear sir, I can tell you nothing except that he is a left-handed stonemason who has spent some years in the merchant navy and has recently fallen on hard times,” and then unroll a lot of supercilious commentary about calluses and stance and the state of a man’s boots, when exactly the same comments could apply to a man who was wearing his old clothes because he’d been doing a spot of home bricklaying for a new barbecue pit, and had been tattooed once when he was drunk and seventeen* and in fact got seasick on a wet pavement. What arrogance! What an insult to the rich and chaotic variety of the human experience!”
—Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
“but you’re such a long fic,” i wept as i clicked on the x on my tab. “why can’t you be good? i was rooting for you.”