87,359 signatures left to sign in 23 days. That’s about 3,800 per day.
Get on it, most excellent Tumblrians.
Please don’t let this one die like the last one
Spread it like wildfire!
guys we’re gaining about 1k signatures a day. thats NOT ENOUGH. the notes on this post are like triple the amount of signatures. if you are able to sign PLEASE SIGN. if it doesnt get enough, thats IT. its over. please, please sign. it will literally only take like 5 minutes.
Think about the first name you were ever called,
and then think how long it took until
you got called a pussy
or a slut,
or a bitch,
or a whore,
all of which are words that fall too close to ‘girl.’
Think about the first time you got called a ‘girl’
and they said it with a sneer.
Like it was a bad thing.
For a boy, it is the lowest degradation to get called a girl.
For a girl, it is the lowest degradation to get called a girl.
Remember, black widow spiders and female praying mantises eat their partners after intercourse.
Remember, it’s the lionesses who hunt.
They come back with bloody muzzles, dragging bloated carcasses as the alpha lion strides around with his mane puffing out.
Remember, it’s only the female mosquitoes who drink blood.
We’re the ones who do the necessary work, dirty our hands,
fuck or fight or both.
We’re often the smaller sex, which makes us a harder target
as we slink close and sink our teeth in.
Remember: we’re deadly.
You should be proud to be called a girl.
”—'Most Female Killers use Poison,' theappleppielifestyle (via r-lupins)
Don’t shame the girls who sent pictures of themselves half-naked to their significant others as a way to express eroticism which is healthy and natural… give the people hell who think it’s okay to destroy someone’s trust and distribute those images simply for entertainment purposes.
Say it again. I don’t think they got it the first time. Too much truth.
Throw me in the landfill, Don’t think about the consequences. Throw me in the dirt pit, Don’t think about the choices that you make. Throw me in the water, Don’t think about the splash I will create. Leave me at the altar, Knowing all the things you just escaped.
Push me out to sea, On a little boat that you made, Out of the evergreen, That you helped your father cut away. Leave me on the tracks, To wait until the morning train arrives. Don’t you dare look back, Walk away, catch up with the sunrise …
So leave me in the cold, Wait until the snow covers me up, So I cannot move, So I’m just embedded in the frost. Then leave me in the rain, Wait until my clothes cling to my frame. Wipe away your tear stains, Thought you said you didn’t feel pain.
Well this is torturous; Electricity between both of us. And this is dangerous, ‘cause I want you so much. But I hate your guts; I want you so much …
“My third grade teacher called my mother and said, ‘Ms. Cox, your son is going to end up in New Orleans in a dress if we don’t get him into therapy.’ And wouldn’t you know, just last week I spoke at Tulane University, and I wore a LOVELY green and black dress.”—Laverne Cox, speaking at the University of Kentucky (via so-nyeo-shi-daze)