1. two-letter-sin:

    aconissa:

    50 Shades of Grey was originally fanfiction based on the Twilight series, which was then published as a novel (along with 2 subsequent books). It sold over 100 million copies around the world and topped best-seller lists everywhere. It’s about to be adapted into a film, set to come out early next year.

    It follows a college student named Ana Steele, who enters a relationship with a man named Christian Grey and is then introduced to a bastardised and abusive parody of BDSM culture.

    While the book is paraded as erotica, the relationship between Ana and Christian is far from healthy. The core mantra of the BDSM community is “safe, sane and consensual”, and 50 Shades is anything but. None of the rules of BDSM practices (which are put in place to protect those involved) are actually upheld. Christian is controlling, manipulative, abusive, takes complete advantage of Ana, ignores safe-words, ignores consent, keeps her uneducated about the sexual practices they’re taking part in, and a multitude of other terrible things. Their relationship is completely sickening and unhealthy.

    Basically, “the book is a glaring glamorisation of violence against women,” as Amy Bonomi so perfectly put it. 

    It’s terrible enough that a book like this has been absorbed by people worldwide. Now, we have a film that is expected to be a huge box-office success, and will likely convince countless more young women that it’s okay not to have any autonomy in a relationship, that a man is allowed to control them entirely. It will also show many young men that women are theirs to play with and dominate, thus contributing to antiquated patriarchal values and rape culture.

    I hated that book and i didn’t even need to read it to know it was a horrible waste of tree’s

    Reblogged from: two-letter-sin
  2. My Parents are Dead and My Sister is Disabled

    thornofsociety:

    congalineofdurin:

    cockismybusiness:

    team—wolverine:

    therealbarbielifts:

    eisforedna:

    On May 28th, my sister, Edna, turned 31.

    image 

    Her mental age is about three years old. She loves Winnie the Pooh, Beauty & the Beast, and Sesame Street. Even though the below picture is unconvincing. 

    image

    Edna and “Cookie.” I think she was trying to play it cool. 

    My name is Jeanie. I’m Edna’s younger sister. I’m also her guardian and caregiver. 

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    That’s me on the left. (Hey, you never know. After a year of writing a blog about online dating - Jeanie Does the Internet - I’ve come to learn that there are A LOT of fools on the internet.) 

    image

    ANYWAY, I’m not “doing the internet” anymore. I’m taking care of Edna full-time, after completing my MFA in Writing for Screen & Television at USC.

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    May 16, 2014. I wanted a picture. Edna wanted breakfast.

    In case you’re wondering where our parents are, they’re dead. Our mom died of breast cancer when she was just 33. 

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    Us with mom before she died. (Obviously.)

    As for our dad, he peaced-out around the time my mom got sick. His loss - we’re awesome. 

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    Here we are being awesome at the beach. Pushing a wheelchair in the sand? Not so awesome. 

    In case you’re wondering “What’s wrong?” with my sister - as a stranger once asked me on the street  -  NOTHING. Yes, Edna has a rare form of epilepsy - Lennox-Gastaut syndrome - but I don’t know if that’s anymore “wrong” than people who don’t have manners. 

    Basically, Edna was born “normal,” and started having seizures as a baby. They eventually got so bad that they cut off the oxygen to her brain, causing her to be mentally disabled. Or impaired. Or intellectually disabled. Or whatever you want to call it - except “retarded,” because in 2010, President Obama signed Rosa’s Law into effect, replacing that word with “intellectually impaired.” 

    Which is cool and all, but services for the disabled and the people who care for them are SEVERELY LACKING. Also, there’s a bunch of people working in taxpayer-funded positions who are supposed to help families like us, but don’t. (Big surprise, I know.) They just fill out paperwork (whenever they feel like it) with asinine statements like this: 

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    YUP. I transport my sister down the stairs in her wheelchair, because that is not only safe, but TOTALLY PRACTICAL. Why doesn’t everyone in a wheelchair just take the stairs, for God’s sake? Stop being so lazy, PEOPLE WITHOUT WORKING LEGS! 

    But, as it says above, Edna’s legs do work. Whether or not she wants them to, is another story. 

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    Edna refusing to go inside. 

    These are the stairs that I have to carry her up - by myself - on a daily basis. That is, until one of my legs break and both of us are just sitting at the bottom of the stairs, helpless. 

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    For six months, I have begged - BEGGED - the State of California to help my sister, which they are required by law - The Lanterman Act specifically - to do so. But they’ve told me “these things take time” and that I “need to amend my expectations.” (That was said to me when I refused to place Edna at AN ALL-MALE CARE FACILITY. Because yes, that was an “option” that was offered to me.) 

    Prior to Edna moving in with me in my one-bedroom apartment, she was living with her amazing caregiver, Gaby, back in Tucson, where we went to high school and I did my undergrad. Edna’s reppin’ the Wildcats below. 

    image

    But back in November, Gaby also died from breast cancer. (FUCK YOU, BREAST CANCER!) This picture was taken a month before she died. She never even told me she was sick because she didn’t want me to worry. 

    By the way, we were raised by our grandma. Edna and her were very close.

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    She’s dead, too. Surprise.

    She died when I was 20 and Edna was 21. That’s when I became Edna’s legal guardian and Gaby stepped into the picture to help me out with Edna. 

    So, six months ago, after Gaby died, I moved Edna to California, where I tried to get the folks over at The Frank D. Lanterman Regional Center to help me. I’ve told them I’m worried about our safety - that one of us could get hurt on the stairs -  I’ve told them I can’t afford to pay the private babysitters $15/hour because the ones social services sent me who make $9/hour were unreliable (they didn’t show up on time or at all so I could get to school and work), untrustworthy (one of them let Edna go to the bathroom in the kitchen and then took her into the bathroom because “that what I thought I was supposed to do.”) 

    But the people over at the FLRC don’t return my calls, they don’t file the paperwork on time - and the first caseworker that was assigned to us actually LAUGHED AT my sister when he came to our home to evaluate her. When I reported him to his supervisor, she told me, “That’s just [insert name of said jackass].” 

    He was one of the two caseworkers that contributed to the report I mentioned above, which also included this: 

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    So let me get this straight - I have to feed, bathe, dress and help Edna in the bathroom and you can’t deduce whether or not she is able to vote? What in the fuck?!

    Now I realize I seem angry. And you can bet your balls I am. I’m also sad. Sad for those who don’t have family to stick up from them and who waste away God knows where, monitored by no one. Or monitored by people who physically and sexually assault them

    I’m also sad for the caregivers who are SO EXHAUSTED - trying to take care of their loved ones - while also trying to take care of themselves and battling a system that is supposed to help, but does nothing of the sort. And I know a lot of people give up. They let their dreams, their marriages, their friendships slide. All while trying not to resent the very person you’re doing it all for.

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    Edna wanted to sit next to me the other day while I was writing. Clearly, she’s not impressed. 

    Here’s the thing: I REFUSE TO GIVE UP. I’M NOT GIVING UP ON HER OR MYSELF. I’m going to pursue my dreams while taking care of her, AND while ensuring that the people paid to do their jobs ACTUALLY do them.

    That’s where you come in. I need you to help me get my story out there. Because I know I’m not alone in this. I want to connect with families who are in similar situations and also show people who have no idea what it’s like to care for someone with a disability (or even a loved one who is sick) that it can be rewarding. Super fucking hard. Exhausting. Painful. Isolating. But, rewarding. 

    I’m going to get help for my sister - and others. My hope is that by sharing our story, I can bring awareness to the lack of services and help for the disabled. 

    Thank you, 

    Jeanie 

    Facebook:  facebook.com/eisforedna

    Twitter: @EisforEdna 

    This made me cry

    SIGNAL BOOST

    STOP SCROLLING. THIS PERSON ISN’T ASKING FOR MONEY AND THIS POST WON’T MAKE YOU SAD.

    This is a really uplifting and inspirational story of a family sticking by each other and making things work despite a whole lot of shit

    They just want to find other people in the same position they are, for a sense of community and to feel like they aren’t alone.

    I know out of all of you, some of you have followers who are living with and taking care of intellectually or emotionally disabled family members, and this lovely and unbreakable pair of sisters need to find them.

    SIGNAL BOOOOOOOOOST

    SIGNAL BOOST

    Reblogged from: thornofsociety
  3. Reblogged from: the-absolute-funniest-posts
  4. Miraculously recover or die. That’s the extent of our cultural bandwidth for chronic illness.
    S. Kelley Harrell (via thefaultinourspoons)
    Reblogged from: thefaultinourspoons
  5. travellingcompanionstephrogers:

chafing-nipples:

modmad:

nooby-banana:

becauseimdavefuckinstrider:

jim fucking carrey

jim fucking carrey



I love Jim Carrey. I once met him in a 7/11, and I was getting a soda, I turned and saw it was him, and he saw I was going for a Doctor Pepper, so he said “Oh did you want one of these”, to which I stuttered out a yes and he grabbed all of them and said “too bad” and brought them up to the front. Then he bought his stuff and left the sodas there, and left. Almost immediately after, he ran back in and began putting the sodas back and paid for mine.

This is what happens when Candians are let lose and try to prank people

    travellingcompanionstephrogers:

    chafing-nipples:

    modmad:

    nooby-banana:

    becauseimdavefuckinstrider:

    jim fucking carrey

    jim fucking carrey

    image

    I love Jim Carrey. I once met him in a 7/11, and I was getting a soda, I turned and saw it was him, and he saw I was going for a Doctor Pepper, so he said “Oh did you want one of these”, to which I stuttered out a yes and he grabbed all of them and said “too bad” and brought them up to the front. Then he bought his stuff and left the sodas there, and left. Almost immediately after, he ran back in and began putting the sodas back and paid for mine.

    This is what happens when Candians are let lose and try to prank people
    Reblogged from: creepsmcpasta
  6. find-greatness:

    To celebrate 9,000 followers i’m posting these very reveling progress photos. 

    I’m not one to post photos of my body. I’m still not over the ones i posted last year around this time but progress is progress and when i do this i become instantly more proud of my success. TBH this is HARD FUCKING WORK. THIS IS WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE NOT TO GIVE UP! I started at over 400 pounds and now i’m in the 240’s. I want to be out of the 200’s by 2015 but i’m taking things one day at a time. 

    I’m not even close to where i want to be but thanks to the people who have supported me since DAY 1! I would have given up a long time ago if y’all didn’t  have my back. 

    (Friends and family please don’t talk about this to me in person. I can’t handle it. I’m internet brave not real life brave) 

    Reblogged from: find-greatness
  7. Reblogged from: best-of-memes
  8. thecvsgirl:

    image

    Reblogged from: thefaultinourspoons
  9. I wish this illness was visible.
    me every time someone says to me, “but you don’t look sick”. (via thefaultinourspoons)
    Reblogged from: thefaultinourspoons
  10. To my fellow elevator riders...

    spooniegoestocollege:

    To my fellow elevator riders,

    Every day, I take the elevator up to the second floor to get to my class. I walk a little further, past the stairs, to get to the elevator. And when my class is over, I go back the same way and take the elevator down.

    And almost every…

    Reblogged from: thefaultinourspoons
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