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paper-mario-wiki: polyglotplatypus: hey there! are you tired of accidentally reblogging from TERFs and other transphobes? then have no fear, for the shinigami eyes extension (chrome/firefox) is there for you. with it, you can identify social media users and pages that are trans-friendly and the ones that are transphobic! never reblog from a transphobe again. oh thats me! hi me! cool extension. : kalichnikov "Terf is a slur used to silence us" dang bitch wish it worked shut the fuck up Source: kalichnikov nermish-ish-blog asked: BORK! What the heck is a terf? Thought it was a trans slur but idk now. paper-mario-wiki answered: trans exclusive radical feminist. basically a shitty person, usually a really angry talk-to-your- manager type woman who believe trans women shouldnt have a say in feminist issues because they arent "real" women. paper-mario-wiki also they tend to reclaim the lesbian D*ke slur a LOT which is weird. criticalfrog| Transwomen are male. Males do not get to speak about feminism because they are men. You are also a man and should not speak on feminism |radicalyobi feminism is not for males paper-mario-wiki cool, youre fundamentally and objectively incorrect, and also dont talk anymore 4:47 AM-12 Apr 2019 36,016 Retweets 90,837 Likes gahdamnpunk Beautiful cial honey-harpe It's almost as if it's not damaging their self esteem, image to their classmates, and wow it's like people want to be treated with kindness a-room-of-my-own I tried that with kids at a summer camp I worked at about 10 years ago. They had activities after lunch and I proposed dancing and relaxation. They loved it. The especially cute thing was one day, I brought a few CDs of Roma music, I'm a big fan so I have quite a few from Django Reinhardt manouche jazz to Roma folk songs. There were Roma children from Kosovo, but I didn't know if the songs were in their language or not. Turned out they were and the kids were just happy! That's one of my fondest memories of that summer. They taught SO the lyrics to the other children (and to me ha!) and also how to dance. As for relaxation, one hyperactive boy came everyday and really appreciated it. Photos Videos Marketplace Pages Places - Fsuwr 22 points 2 days ago Wait for a paper bill then call your ins company. All ER visits are supposed t in network. You may have to push the ef Everyday Feminism 572K like this Society & Culture Website Laura and 18 other friends like this Liked permalink embed save report give gold re Check out our online magazine Learn how to apply feminism to your r... heidycge2 3 points 1 day ago Usually policies have a waiver if y this was the only ER you could go Like Being Feminist amarnanru unu fared at the time 160K like this - Community Valentina and 10 other friends like this Open Link in New Tab 6+ Matching Posts Open Link in New Container Tab Open Link in New Window ARCA ARTANE Like Family Research Council Open Link in New Private Window 243K like this Publisher Bookmark This Link Family Research Council is the nation's premier advocacy organizat... BINCE Save Link As... Save Link to Pocket Copy Link Location Shinigami Eyes Mark as anti-trans Mark as t-friendly Clear Help paper-mario-wiki: polyglotplatypus: hey there! are you tired of accidentally reblogging from TERFs and other transphobes? then have no fear, for the shinigami eyes extension (chrome/firefox) is there for you. with it, you can identify social media users and pages that are trans-friendly and the ones that are transphobic! never reblog from a transphobe again. oh thats me! hi me! cool extension.
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thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.* : thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
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srsfunny:Saturdays With Kids Vs. Without Kids: AN AVERAGE SATURDAY MORNING: WITH KIDS VS. WITHOUT KID WITH KIDS TIME WITHOUT KIDS Time to get up! Someone peed 6:00 You won't be getting up for 5 through his diaper and now your bed is covered in urine more You change a diaper and try to get the kid to sleep a little longer but now the he's yelling zoo animals and doing flips on the 6:30 You made some breakfast for your child, but today he decided he hates eggs. He's saying he wants "scrims" but you don't know what that means. He won't explain and just keeps yelling "scrims" louder and louder 7:00 Your pillow got a little warm so you turn it over and go back to You've now watched the same episode of Spongebob four times. One time you tried to change it over to the news and your kid shoved a spoon in the Tranquil visions dance in your 8:00 O0 head as the sweet embrace of slumber engulfs your resting body You attempt to take a shower but your kid keeps throwing can openers into the tub. You weren't aware that you hacd multiple can openers An angel comes down and gently kisses your forehead. Sleep well, sweet prince 8:30 You walk upstairs to your room, but didn't realize your kid was using the stairs as a stunt zone for Hot Wheels and you slip on one and nearly die as you tumble back down to the A hummingbird perches itself outside your window and sings a sweet lullaby. He blows you a kiss and soars away 9:00 You try to finally go to the bathroom, but forgot to lock the door so now your kid is crying because you won't let him dump sand in your lap. He dumps it on the dog instead. The sand was actually used cat litter You wake briefly to adjust your sleep number. (You bought an adjustable bed with all the disposable income you have from not having a kid.) 9:30 You hear laughter, which is almost more terrifying than crying. You walk in the living room to see your kid making 10:00 S Still sleeping soundly, like a puppy in front of a crackling snow angels in glue. There's no way you're getting your deposit back with a giant glue angel in the middle of the carpet Your kid doses off and you try to catch up on your favorite show You stir a little and check your texts. Your friend wants to go to brunch later. That sounds nice 30 more minutes of sleep and you'll get ready for that. Maybe go to mall later or ride go-karts Unfortunately, six minutes into it 10:30 there's a dramatic moment where the music builds and your kid is now wide-awake. (Screw You get everyone loaded into the car to go to the zoo, even though it's 90 degrees and so humid taxidermy is coming back to life. Your kid yells a racial slur he heard in a movie. Out of all the words he's heard, that's the only one that stuck. You wake up feeling refreshed and beautiful. You know what? It's Saturday. Let's just lie in the bed a while and watch a movie 11:00 srsfunny:Saturdays With Kids Vs. Without Kids

srsfunny:Saturdays With Kids Vs. Without Kids

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