Falling toward apotheosis

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toewscrosby:

please watch this cinematic masterpiece

singingtomysoul:

arseniccupcakes:

SO MUCH LADY LOVE

I LOVE GISELLE YOU GUYS 

No, but what gets me in this movie

is that every woman is beautiful to Giselle.

Women who wear suits and aren’t cute and petite. Women with wide hips and large rear ends and small breasts. Women who are black and white and every other ethnicity she came across, I’m sure. Women with straight hair and natural hair and grey hair. Older women and middle-aged women and young women.

Everyone is beautiful to Giselle. There’s no reason anyone wouldn’t be beautiful. There’s no reason beauty should ever be just one thing, that being a princess should ever be just one thing.

Everyone is a princess to Giselle, and if one of the princesses politely corrected her and said they were a prince she’d probably nod earnestly and talk about how dashing and handsome they looked too.

(Source: barretweed)

toontown2001:

[Old man’s voice] Back in my days we had to have two memory cards to visit another town

(Source: alltoonedup)

tastefullyoffensive:

How to speak with an Irish accent. [via]

tastefullyoffensive:

How to speak with an Irish accent. [via]

Someone walks over to our step to say hello. She bends at the waist, looming over Brooke.

Brooke doesn’t look up. She doesn’t stop stripping her stick.

Dig. Pull. Dig. Pull.

Our visitor reaches out a hand and cups it below Brooke’s chin.

I freeze. Oh God.

She uses the hand to pull Brooke’s head up by the jaw.

A thin line of panic starts somewhere deep. I know that Brooke is going to scream. 5,4,3,2 …

She does scream, but not in the way that I expect.

“I HATE BEING TOUCHED!!” she shouts.

I am flabbergasted.

Words. Self-awareness. Communication. Self-advocacy.

I know the sentence will need to be reformatted. But I am drenched in pride.

I turn to Brooke. “Great job telling us how you feel, Brooke. Really great job.” I hope that my words send a message to both of them. I stand with my girl.

Our visitor is undaunted.

“I just want to see that beautiful face,” she says. “Lift up for me.”

I am stymied by etiquette. By deference to our host. By generational difference. By convention.

Brooke is not.

She lifts her head as instructed. And growls.

-

This has probably been posted before, but this knocks me for a loop - a blogger and her autistic daughter had the opportunity to meet Suzanne Wright of Autism Speaks, and this is how one of the noisiest voice in the autism community treated her daughter.

What knocks me for a loop isn’t so much Wright’s awful behavior. It’s the unbelievable strength and self-advocacy that the blogger Jess’s daughter, Brooke, shows when someone violates her personal space. It’s her mother backing her up for making sure someone knows that they are not permitted to touch her unless she says it’s okay. Honestly, it’s heartening. I hope Wright felt real fucking uncomfortable. She should.

(via chantrykomori) YOU GO, GIRL!!!!! (via primadraggle)

draelogor:

fuckingconversations:

teamfreekickass:

spiffypop:

housetohalf:

mysnarkasm:

When I grow up I want to be Ming-Na Wen.

She’s the voice of Mulan, as if she wasn’t amazing enough.

Girl is 50 years old.

FIFTY. YEARS. OLD.

fun fact: When you break things with your hands like that you have t break your fingers on purpose before so that they heal stronger. So basically this woman is so badass she broke her hands just to do this. 

You asshat, you’re making it sound like she snaps her fingers in half. 

Martial artists like Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee (and yes, fucking Ming-Na Wen, that beautiful badass) will build up their bone strength by repeatedly (and fairly gently) striking sand, gravel, wood and steel - this creates tons of microfractures in their bones (smaller than even a hairline fracture) so the bones will heal over again and make the bones stronger and denser with increased deposits of calcium. 

This has to be done over long-ass periods of time, so the bones have time to heal, and none of the fractures expand into actual breaks. 

Oh, and she’s doing precise-ass kicks in HIGH HEELS. 

with all the force of a great typhoon

(Source: bucky-thevampireslayer)

monobeartheater:

snark0lepsy:

The Whitest Kids U’ Know x

whitest kids u know arent even close to fucking around

jumpingjacktrash:

realmonstrosities:

hobboxcorner:

xryz:

sizvideos:

Video

ants are some scary mother fuckers

Who needs sled dogs when you have fucking ants.

I wouldn’t want sled dogs to drag my corpse to their underground nest to be honest

dude that is some badass teamwork for something with a brain the size of a grain of salt.

skinks:

remember 2001-2004 though???!? remember windows xp and kerrang and neopets and shrek being a big deal and beyblades and ps2 skating/snowboarding games and “i believe in a thing called love” and flash video sites and avril lavigne and wearing chains on jeans and t.A.T.u. and seeing LOTR and PotC in cinemas and how every boy looked like reese from malcolm in the middle

valkyriestrikeofthelashatterdome:

gotterdammerungs:

                             (x)

And then in the future, everything changes. He’s been through it all, of course-watched humanity rediscover the heavens above them, watched them begin to wonder what’s out there. He cheered with the rest of the world when they landed on the moon, cheered as if he’d found Isla de la Muerta all over again, because there was something new. New treasure, a new horizon. But then they stop going, stop exploring, and he goes back to riding tankers across the rising seas. So he’s surprised when one day he wakes up from a night with his bottle of rum (his truest companion), and hears that there’s colonies on Mars now, and they need ships to supply them. He spends the next decade crafting new identities, learning all he can to qualify for the job, and after several tries (and even more faked deaths-this immortality thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in the age of the inerasable digital self) he gets it. The ships go nearly constantly now, the needs of the terraforming project creating an unbroken line of vessels from Mars to Earth and back again. “Show me that horizon,” he whispers to himself, his personal prayer of thanksgiving, each time they leave orbit, because the worlds, the stars are in motion and it’s never the same, with nearly three years for a round trip the ports are always different, even if they keep the old names. And finally one trip something goes wrong with the reactor, they’re too low on power and have to deploy the backups, and Jack (Lucky Jack, they call him, for he survives too many things he shouldn’t but science has yet to accept that maybe some things weren’t old wives’ tales after all) goes out for the spacewalk to bring up the solar panels. And as they rise, geometric patterns black against the sun’s glare, he’s struck by a powerful sense of déjà vu, because it’s all here-wind and sails, a ship beneath his feet and stars above his head, horizon in all directions. He wonders, for a moment, if the reason he’s still here is because the universe wanted a witness, to mourn the end of one age of exploration, and rejoice in the birth of the next.

(Source: jamesfrancos)

talesofthestarshipregeneration:

lovelornpaper:

Hermione Granger, age 11 headcanonPortrayed by Quvenzhané Wallis
“‘Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,’ she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.” Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s Stone, page 105

YESSSSSSSSS

talesofthestarshipregeneration:

lovelornpaper:

Hermione Granger, age 11 headcanon
Portrayed by Quvenzhané Wallis

“‘Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,’ she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.” 
Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s Stone, page 105

YESSSSSSSSS

my-lady-knight:

unwomanlythoughts:

microaggressions:

When a financial institution asks me my “mother’s maiden name” as a security question. Because it’s assumed that I have at least one and no more than one mother in my life AND that she married AND that she gave up her own name AND that that part of her identity was erased enough from my public history so as to be a password to access my private information.

Holy crap, I never realized.

I deliberately did not put down my mother’s “maiden name” when getting my state ID BECAUSE it’s still her last name and was promptly told to fill it in once I took the form up to the front desk.

My mom offered to let my dad take her name. He decided to keep his.

puckish-thoughts:

THERE IT IS AGAIN!  THERE IT FUCKING IS!  i’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT THIS PHOTO FOR YEARS AND NEVER COULD FIND IT!!  THE LAN PARTY WITH THE GUY DUCT-TAPED TO THE CEILING!!  BACK IN ANCIENT TIMES WHEN PEOPLE STILL USED CATHODE MONITORS AND WHEN COUNTERSTRIKE WAS THE NEW THING.  THIS SHIT IS REAL.  THIS IS REAL SHIT.  SHIT THAT HAPPENED.

puckish-thoughts:

THERE IT IS AGAIN!  THERE IT FUCKING IS!  i’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT THIS PHOTO FOR YEARS AND NEVER COULD FIND IT!!  THE LAN PARTY WITH THE GUY DUCT-TAPED TO THE CEILING!!  BACK IN ANCIENT TIMES WHEN PEOPLE STILL USED CATHODE MONITORS AND WHEN COUNTERSTRIKE WAS THE NEW THING.  THIS SHIT IS REAL.  THIS IS REAL SHIT.  SHIT THAT HAPPENED.

(Source: unregistered-hypercam2)

salparadisewasright:

estufar:

An actual headline from The New York Times in 1919 


I love this so much.

salparadisewasright:

estufar:

An actual headline from The New York Times in 1919 

I love this so much.

i-eat-men-like-air:

john oliver is really not fucking around 

(Source: sandandglass)