Who asked u
am I sick from anxiety or am I actually physically ill? a memoir by me
am i lazy or horribly depressed: the sequel
does everyone hate me or am I just very insecure: the completion of the trilogy
And the riveting companion anthology of short stories: Am I Actually Getting Better or am I Ignoring My Problems
me: *dials 911*
operator: hello 911, what’s your emergency?
me: i need someone to cuddle with, rub my back, and play with my hair
operator: someone is on their way, please stay calm
What gay men give to the world. A-yup.
On the second one.
There’s this one gay club I go to that actually has a problem of straight guys going there to dance with girls. I guess these guys don’t understand that girls can also be gay, because they assume that any girls at the club are there with their gay guy friends.
So one night I was out on the dance floor, and I see this guy. He’s like over six-foot, at least, all beefed-up, muscle shirt, looks kindof like a douchebag. And he’s just circling the dance floor, in one continuous loop, looking at the crowd like a predator, and it’s creeping me the fuck out.
It’s creeping me out enough that I don’t immediately realize what’s going on nearby. Some girl has attracted one of the Assholes, who has proceeded to begin grinding on her. She’s pushing him away, telling him to get lost. He’s pulling that whole, “come on, don’t be a bitch” spiel, and generally just not getting the message.
BAM. Suddenly, the prowling guy swoops in, like some sort of Gay Avenger. He shoves himself between the girl and the Asshole, grabs the Asshole by the hips, and starts dirty dancing him like a God-damned fuck machine. Asshole completely flips his shit, like how DARE another man try to dance with him at a GAY BAR???, starts spitting curses, and tears ass off the dance floor and out onto the sidewalk.
The Gay Avenger turns back to the girl, inclines his head in an, “are you okay?” sort of gesture. She nods, and he returns to his previous position of circling the dance floor, looking for his next target.
Told this story to some guys upstairs. Apparently Gay Avenger is a regular there.
A pastel betta fish x Christian Dior Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2010
WAKE. THE. FUCK. UP.
- DEPRESSION IS NOT SPECIAL
- ANXIETY IS NOT CUTE
- SELF HARM SCARS ARE NOT BEAUTIFUL
- SUICIDE IS NOT POETIC
- EATING DISORDERS ARE NOT GLAMOROUS
- MENTAL ILLNESSES ARE NOT ROMANTIC SO STOP TREATING THEM THAT WAY
- SCHIZOPHRENIA IS TERRIFYING
- DON’T PRETEND TO HAVE HALLUCINATIONS
- YOU DON’T FUCKING WANT THEM
Thanks, James Franco.
Considering taking out a cash quid loan so I can get tattooed at the convention this weekend 🙊
"The markings upon the band begin to fade. The writing which at first was as clear as red flame, has all but disappeared, a secret now that only fire can tell.”
Barely ever fight, she knows that I love her.
At first we made it every night, but I don’t wanna bug her about it.
She just has a funny way of loving me.
A pair of ticket stubs in her desk, a movie I’d never seen.
I probably shouldn’t ask, it sounds so accusing.
She must have forgotten to mention girl’s night out.
The breakfast cereal talked more than we did all day long.
I asked her for a walk, but she had to be on her way.
So I told her that I knew she’d been stepping out.
She swore that she could explain.
She swore that it would not happen again.
She swore that she could explain.
We both knew her words were in vain.
urls are getting so fucking weird now… like what the fuck is a “communist bakery”
no idea… sounds like a really dumb blog