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sonoanthony:

When you having sex with a girl and she wants to be choked, don’t choke her hard and fast that she can’t breathe within 2 seconds. Choke her slow, so she feels how every breath gets smaller and smaller and her oxygen is depriving. Choke her slow so she feels her consciousness leaving little by little, choke her slow so her eyes roll back and right when she’s about to pass out let her breathe again 

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Thanks to Shailene Woodley’s latest interview, those “I Don’t Need Feminism” memes are circulating again. If that’s going to be a thing, can we at least be realistic about why we don’t need it?

I don’t need feminism because Alice Paul and Lucy Burns were jailed, beaten into unconsciousness, and force-fed so that I can grab a bagel and vote for the president of my country without thinking twice about it.

I don’t need feminism because Luisa Capetillo went to jail in 1919 for wearing pants in public, paving the road so that a short 74 years later, Senators Barbara Mikulski and Carol Braun could become the first women to wear pants on the Senate floor. That was in 1993. 1993. But I don’t need feminism because I can wear pants to work every day.

I don’t need feminism because at a time when men were saying, “women aren’t funny”, Tina Fey became the head writer of Saturday Night Live. I don’t need feminism because 29% of television writer jobs now belong to women. Which is a lot when you consider that people are still saying women aren’t funny.

I don’t need feminism because Kathrine Switzer fought off a race official who tried to physically drag her off the all male Boston Marathon course and finished the race, forcing him to acknowledge that women are capable of running 26.2 miles.

If you’re going to stand up and say you don’t need feminism, at least be grateful to the women who made it possible for you to think you don’t need it.

Sarah Watson

Sarah Watson, on point. 

(via nataliemorales)

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Because he likes brave girls best of all.

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Because somebody’s got an affinity for kept girls.

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Happy Birthday, Sir.

As a terrible substitute for being able to be there in person with him (but soon!), I’ll be posting stuff he likes all day. 

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Found while cleaning out my photos: documentation of just about the only way I can achieve cleavage.

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Me too, buddy.