LOST valentines, part 10 of 11.
Happy almost valentines day Losties!
- Classy women
- Guys being gentlemen
- Cute ass relationships
- Cold War
- Constant threat of nuclear war
But I mean the vintage bombshelters are sooo totally cute
this post is literally the best thing i’ve ever seen
I love hockey!
That’s how you play basketball, right?
Excuse me, I would totally buy that book. Ch 1: pop-up scenes of Champlain and his army of woodsmen fighting alongside the Hurons against the Iroquois Confederacy. I should write this…
Seal to the rescue! [x]
Alright, here’s something funny. These boys in my hall went outside in their undies to take some photos in the snow. Funny, right? They’re trying to get attention and it’s hilarious. Us ladies choose to do the same, we are wearing more clothing, and are doing the exact same poses. We are wearing as much clothing as is acceptable at the pool or the beach, at the gym, etc.
There is a serious double standard here— us girls have gotten responses like:
"What’s the point of being half naked?"
"*ahem* sluts *ahem*"
"What’s wrong with you females?"
Or worse, what my mother said. Her initial shock was apparently because she thought I was in my underwear, but when I told her I was in a swimsuit, she was suddenly happy I was having fun in college.
The idea here is that we are doing the same thing. When arguing this point with one of my hallmates, he said “But men’s bodies aren’t built the same, you don’t see girls getting pumped up over a topless guy, but how many guys do you think are gonna get all crazy over a topless girl?” Seriously? Really? Women don’t need to dress in order to avoid a reaction from men. You’re mad because you can’t control yourself? Men can pose in their undies in the snow without an issue because women aren’t going to go wild over it? Keep it in your pants, that’s your responsibility, not ours.
The double standards are killin’ me.
"Keep it in your pants, that’s your responsibility, not ours." Is literally one of the best quotes I’ve ever heard. Thank you.
How history graduate students amuse themselves.
Letter 1:Dear whoever occupies this desk,
Are there currently two people using this desk? It wasn’t allotted an office spot this fall and I’m looking for a place to store books, work, not work, etc. If it’s a problem for me to use the desk, just let me know.
You’re a white man — just plant your flag and claim it as your own! it’s what you guys do best.
Letter 3:To Whom it May Concern:
As per your instructions, I have acquired a royal charter from Crown Prince George (“Phil”) for this desk, south of 42”39’N and all lands and peoples between this point and the Red River watershed. I would be honored to offer you beads and empty promises in exchange for pelts, monographs, bandwidth and the key to these drawers.
4th Earl of Landsdowne and the good part of Saxony
Yes, I support traditional marriage. A union between one middle-aged man and a 13-year-old girl for a dowry of eighteen cows.
whoa there we agreed on 20 and 2 chickens
all women were bigger and stronger than you
and thought they were smarter
women were the ones who started wars
too many of your friends had been raped by women wielding giant dildos
and no K-Y Jelly
the state trooper
who pulled you over on the New Jersey Turnpike
was a woman
and carried a gun
the ability to menstruate
was the prerequisite for most high-paying jobs
your attractiveness to women depended
on the size of your penis
every time women saw you
they’d hoot and make jerking motions with their hands
women were always making jokes
about how ugly penises are
and how bad sperm tastes
you had to explain what’s wrong with your car
to big sweaty women with greasy hands
who stared at your crotch
in a garage where you are surrounded
by posters of naked men with hard-ons
men’s magazines featured cover photos
of 14-year-old boys
tucked into the front of their jeans
and articles like:
“How to tell if your wife is unfaithful”
“What your doctor won’t tell you about your prostate”
“The truth about impotence”
the doctor who examined your prostate
was a woman
and called you “Honey”
you had to inhale your boss’s stale cigar breath
as she insisted that sleeping with her
was part of the job
you couldn’t get away because
the company dress code required
you wear shoes
designed to keep you from running
And what if
after all that
women still wanted you
to love them.
For the Men Who Still Don’t Get It, written 20 years ago by Carol Diehl.
She wrote a post about the history of this poem that is worth reading.
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