things i like a lot → chocolate everything
you know what totally sucks
when you realize that you like somebody way more than they like you and even if it’s in a totally platonic way it still makes you feel awful because you’re probably just annoying them and how often you think of them is probably more than creepy
but you know what totally sucks more
when you realize this is your relationship with pretty much everyone
Please read this****
If a thief forces you to take money from an ATM, do not argue or resist. What you should do is punch your pin in reverse. EX: if your pin is 1234 you punch 4321. The moment you punch in the reverse, the money will come out but will be stuck in the machine and the machine will immediately alert the police without the theif’s knowledge. Every ATM has this feature.
Reblog this so everyone knows, this happens all the time especially in the city!
SIGNAL BOOST!! THIS IS NOT TRUE. IF YOU DO THIS, YOU ASSAILANT WILL MOST LIKELY HURT YOU (OR WORSE) FOR DELIBERATELY PUTTING IN THE WRONG PIN. MY MOM HAS WORKED AT A BANK FOR OVER 30 YEARS AND SHE HAS CONFIRMED THAT THIS IS COMPLETELY FALSE. PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS!!! YOUR BEST OPTION IS TO TAKE OUT MONEY, GIVE IT TO THE PERSON, GET A GOOD LOOK AT HIM FOR IDENTITY MARKERS I.E. SCARS, TATTOOS, ETC AND THEN GO TO THE POLICE.
ONCE AGAIN THIS IS NOT TRUE STOP SPREADING THIS YOU ARE ENDANGERING YOUR FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS BY TELLING THEM THIS.
You know you did great when they don’t need you anymore…
Chapter titles of Melody Malone.
The BBC has announced that a special farewell video entitled “The Last Days of the Ponds” will premiere on the official site after The Angels Take Manhattanconcludes.
The Last Days of the Ponds is a touching, 12 minute video that features Matt Smith, Karen Gillan, Arthur Darvill, head writer and Executive Producer Steven Moffat and Executive Producer Caro Skinner. Poignant and insightful it tells their story, from the very start to the teary goodbyes.
With exclusive backstage material from their early days together right up to behind-the-scenes footage of their final shots, The Last Days of the Ponds gives you unprecedented access to an era of Doctor Who, but more than this, it reveals how the people involved feel about their characters and their friends, their time on the show, what they’ll miss and remember and how Amy and Rory’s swansong moved them all.
Karen, Arthur and Matt recall meeting each other for the first time and share anecdotes about their friendship. What did they think of each other at first and what did Arthur consider to be a nightmare? Which days does Karen call the craziest of all, and how was Matt feeling when it came to shooting the Ponds’ departure?
So I heard about this story at a Zumbathon I attended this weekend. To my understanding, a 3 year old was bit by a pit bull and needs facial reconstruction surgery. The community however isn’t doing a very good job at helping because the mother and father of the child have a lot of tattoos.
All I could think when I heard this was - Tumblr wouldn’t stand for that.
Here is the link to the news story and to the fundraising site, please signal boost :)
Boosting the signal.
I know I’m not the only person to have noticed that the filter on the Doctor Who credits has slowly darkened over the past 3 episodes:
(image shamelessly stolen from here)
Same deal at the end of the title sequence, as seen here:
At first I got annoyed, thinking it was just crappy editing trying to shake things up a little. But the fact that it’s been happening over every episode (and in particular ATCM) makes me wonder whether it’s leading up to something different.
Perhaps it’s a visual representation of the darker side of the Doctor’s personality coming through. Or the darker undertones of the series overall.
I’m terrified at the idea that come episode 5 it’s going to be completely black, leading to something absolutely heartbreaking to end the Pond’s tenure.
Either that, or completely black, leading to a weeping angel reaching through your TV.
Do you have any idea of how painful this is going to be.
that’s like the warner bros logo in harry potter over again.
And then I debated whether or not to put it on Tumblr…but I decided it was important. Because in my own way, I can (unfortunately) point out exactly what is wrong with men when they don’t realize how hard it is to be a woman. How we do not have equal opportunities and freedoms in everyday life. How most men, even good caring men, have no clue what we go through on a daily basis just trying to live our lives.
So here goes.
I often ride the Metro when I commute from North Hollywood to Long Beach in order to save money. I bring a book, pointedly wear a ring on my ring finger to imply I’m married (I’m not) and keep to myself.
Without fail, I am aggressively approached by men on at least half of these commutes. The most common approach is to walk up to where I am sitting with body language that practically screams LEAVE ME ALONE and sit down next to me or as close to me as possible, when the train is not crowded and there are many empty rows. Sometimes an overly friendly arm is draped over the railing behind me, or they attempt to lean in close to talk to me as if we are old friends. Without fail, the man or boy in question will lean to close and ask me
What are you reading?
Is that a good book?
What’s that book about?
This serves the double purpose of getting my attention and trapping me in a conversation. If I stop reading the book I enjoy to talk to you, random stranger, you hit on me or just stay way too close to me. If I tell you to leave me alone, you get mad at me. Because I somehow, as a woman, owe you conversation.
Tonight when I boarded the train in Long Beach at 10:30pm, it started up right away. I was not on the train more than three minutes before three boys who looked eighteen sat in the row behind me and leaned over the seats into my personal space, close enough to breathe on me. The one with his arm draped over onto the back of my seat asked me—surprise— “what are you reading?” I went through my usual routine. I told them loudly and firmly that I wanted to be left alone to read my book. They got angry. I was told “Why are you going to be like that? I just wanted to talk!” His friends start laughing at me and they don’t move, telling me come on! and why are you gonna be like that? until I tell them to leave me the fuck alone, stand up, and move to the front of the car near the three other people on the train, a couple and a business man in a suit. They spend the next two stops shouting at me from the back of the car, alternating between trying to sound flirtatious and making fun of me, shouting “I bet she’s reading Stephanie Meyer! I bet she’s reading Twilight or some shit! You reading Twilight or some shit?”
They exit the train at the next stop, and I’m relieved. The train is going out of service at the next station, so we all exit to board a new train to Los Angeles. As we board, the business man steps aside to let me go through the door first and asks me if those guys were bothering me. I say yes, that it happens all the time, and he tells he’ll beat them up for me if they come back. He is a nice person who talks to me like I’m a human being instead of a walking pair of tits, and I make a mental note: This is how a real man talks to a woman on a train.
The business man and the couple exit our new Blue Line train an exit or so later, and I think my night is ending on a good note. A seemingly normal man enters the train with his bicycle. At this point I am three rows from the front of the car, another man was sitting near the back of the car, and the rest of the car is empty. Bicycle Man walks halfway down the row, and settles into the seat directly opposite me. Perfect, I think. Twice in one night.
It’s not the first time I’ve been bothered multiple times. As such, I’m still amped from the teenagers on the first train. So when this man leans across the aisle into my personal space and asks me, yes, what are you reading, I assertively but calmly tell him to please leave me alone, I am reading. The man stands up, moving to the front and muttering angrily over his shoulder that it isn’t his fault I’m pretty.
Yes. Exactly that. I am the bad person in this situation because somehow this is all my fault. I started this by being attractive. I am making a mental note to bitch about this to my friends later. I go so far as to write it down so I know I’m remembering it properly.
It is at this exact moment I realize Bicycle Man is not taking it well. The seemingly annoying but normal man a moment before is now talking to himself, becoming agitated. In my years of being bothered by total strangers, I have learned how to hold a book and seem to be reading while taking in everything around me. He is glaring at me, and says out loud in an angry baby talk voice “PLEASELEAVEMEALONEI’MREADING. PLEASE LEAVE ME ALOOOONE.”
Then he’s up out of his seat and things go from bad to worse. He begins pacing back and forth in front of his bike, alternating between screaming something about his mother being dead and calling me a slut, a hoe, a bitch. I am frozen in place. There is one other person in the car, and I’m not sure if trying to change seats will draw more attention to me or less. I trust my instincts and show no fear, doing my best to appear to be calmly reading my book, never once looking up to acknowledge the abuse he’s hurling at me. There are four stops left until we reach the main downtown station where there are lights and security officers. Those four stops are virtually abandoned, and I have no guarantee that leaving to wait for another train won’t motivate him to leave the train as well, leaving us potentially alone at a metro station platform just outside of Compton. I’m frozen in place, trying to plan what I’m going to do if he decides to take all this rage directly to me. I’m ready to kick him, scream, make enough noise that he panics and flees.
At this point he’s punching the walls and doors of the train, screaming at me. He stares me full in the face and screams
SUCK MY DICK, BITCH
YOU STUPID BITCH
YOU GODDAMN HO
IF I HAD A GUN I’D SHOOT YOU
I WOULD FUCKING KILL YOU BITCH
This went on for two stops. No one came to see what was happening. The man in the last row was as frozen as I was. I’m not angry he didn’t come to my defense. He was smaller, older, and frailer-looking than I was. Again, I was worried if I got up, I would be turning my back on him to walk down the aisle. In the state he was in, I had no guarantee it wouldn’t get physical, and I had more physical strength with my back to the window and feet in kicking position where I was. If he had chosen to assault me, I would only be making it easier for him by standing up and putting myself directly in his path. On and on, over and over, he screamed at me, screamed at his dead mother, screamed at me again.
The moment we reached the downtown station, I was out the door and down the stairs. I still had to catch a connecting train to North Hollywood, and made sure there was no sign of Bicycle Man before I entered the car. That’s when I finally starting shaking, and almost threw up. By the time I exited the Red Line and reached my car I could barely breathe and my heart was pounding out of my chest. Even now, in my own home, my hands are still shaking and for some reason the stress has made my back muscles feel cold and numb. From all the tension, I can only assume. I can’t eat anything, I still feel like I’m going to vomit, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t cried so much, so hard I still have the headache.
So when people (men) want to talk about “legitimate” forms of assault, tell girls they should be nice to strangers and give men the benefit of a doubt, tell them to consider it a compliment, tell them to ignore the bad behavior of men, I want them to be forced to feel, for even one minute, what it feels like to have so much verbal hatred and physical intimidation thrown at them for nothing more than being female and not wanting to share.
I just wanted to read my book.
It’s not my fault I’m pretty.