The one video I saved from my first playthrough. It’s fucking hilarious XD
Some pretty fancy shootin’ there, Tex.
The one video I saved from my first playthrough. It’s fucking hilarious XD
Some pretty fancy shootin’ there, Tex.
sometimes fitness blog photo posts confuse me
wow cool a bunch of berries sitting directly on a table invigorating?
or 4 strawberries in a tiny strainer totes great v inspiring
or an overflowing smoothie that nobody could ever possibly consume and wow you’re wasting all that smoothie you…
An entire jar worth of peanut butter balancing on a single spoon would be inspiring, don’t lie.
Posting this because on my run today a woman yelled from her Jeep as she was driving, “Put some clothes on!”
I wish I had the opportunity to tell her how it feels to hear that. YOU try running six miles on the streets in 80+ temps and come back to me and tell me that yea, wearing a sticky, itchy, and down right uncomfortable shirt is a good idea.
Body shaming is just so aggravating. All I’m trying to do is run in the most comfortable way possible. I’m not showing off, I’m not aiming to be provocative, I’m not even wearing tight spandex. But who cares if I was? Who cares if I wanted to flaunt my body? It’s my body and I have every right.
You’re wearing even more clothes than I do. People suck.
I just don’t understand it… why go out of your way to yell something like that out of your car?? What good are you doing in the world? Does it make feel all high-and-mighty? This has happened to me too many times before. (In fact, one time I was running with a few of the girls on the team and we actually got, “SLUT!” from a car. Yep.)
I hate people. Keep doin your thing,girls! People are so rude that they feel entitled to spoil someone’s mood when they’re just doing the thing they love
I’ve been composing a letter in my head to this little bro who shouted out their window at me, so thank you for the impetus to finally write it somewhere.
So the other day I misread the bus schedule and ended up walking 5 miles to
when a white SUV drove by and a 12.9-year-old little bro shouted out the window,
“Nobody wants to see you in shorts!”
It sometimes takes me a second to register what people say, and by the time I did they were 3 car lengths away, and suddenly I burst into laughter. It was hard to walk! As far as I can figure out, this brobro wanted to tell me something like:
But like OP, I was dealing with temperatures in the low 80s (high 20s for metric types) and it is the beginning of August. During this day, I had already
and I was in the same clothes, so I was desperately fearing heat rash and chafe. Here’s what I want to say to the little bro, because even though it was funny, I feel kinda sorry for someone that insecure and they need help, and they’re not getting it from their framily in the SUV:
Dear Little bro in the white SUV,
You’re at that age when you’re going to have to start making some decisions about the kind of bros you hang out with, and the kind of bro you’re going to grow up to become. You informed me, via verbal message out the window of a moving vehicle, that nobody wanted to see me in shorts. I have to inform you now why I found this concept so unexpected, alien, and funny.
Ever since you learned to dress yourself, you’ve been faced with decisions. On days when you have to dress yourself, you’ve got a choice to make. Maybe your school has uniforms, so you have to wear what they want you to. Maybe your parents only buy you certain clothes and without a source of income or any other source of clothes, you’re stuck with the same few outfits. But you do have a choice, of some kind.
When it’s the middle of August, and you’re going to be outside for a few hours, you have to decide: Do I wear the skinnyjeans, or do I wear a kilt? Do I wear bicycle spandex shorts, or do I wear basketball shorts that hang below my crotch and show off my boxers? Do I wear a suit + vest + button-down shirt + tie, or a polo shirt, or a T-shirt, or a V-neck, or a tanktop, or a spaghetti-strap, or a sports bra?
There comes a time in every bro’s life, almost every day, when they’re faced with these decisions. As if that wasn’t daunting enough, there is another decision: Form or function? Fashion or comfort? Traditional or progressive? And, in my case: Do I dress the way I imagine others want to see me, or do I dress how I want to look/feel?
It’s been so long since I cared about the opinion of others that I forgot this is a really serious concern at your age. Let me tell you something that would have made middle school and high school so much easier: Opinions can’t affect you. As long as they’re not disrespecting your person, your time, or your money, an opinion has no power over you… unless you consent to it. And if they are disrespecting you in the ways I said, then don’t tolerate it.
In my case, you were shouting that I, who was walking in basketball shorts and a T-shirt, should wear something other than shorts. 5 seconds before you drove by, I was actually thinking of taking my boxer briefs off. I’d built up a pretty dangerous heat-rash situation, you see; when you sweat, there is salt in the sweat, and when the sweat dries, the salt crystallizes and becomes like sandpaper on your skin where there is friction. This was sometimes a problem in the army, especially when we carried rucksacks for long distances while having to wear long sleeves/long pants and more; the crystallized salt would grind away at your inner thighs and shoulders (where shoulderstraps made contact) and if you didn’t monitor it, you’d end up injured and become a liability to your friends, your unit, and the mission, as they’d have to devote resources to taking care of you (generally two healthy people for your one injured self) A friend of mine once had such bad chafe on his inner thighs that all of the skin ripped off, leaving his tendons visible under the leaking blood vessels. I don’t like chafe.
With that in mind, I wear boxer briefs and nylon basketball shorts, which I can hike up dangerously close to wedgie range if I need to reduce friction. I used to bike 28 miles a day, and have some pretty huge thigh muscles. They’re about 1.5x the size of your head, from what I saw. You probably interpreted these as “fat” and therefore “lazy/stupid/undisciplined/genetically inferior” and thought this made me a target.I think yelling out the window was supposed to make you feel better about yourself, because you tried to make me feel bad about myself. However, when you yelled out the window, it had about the same effect as if someone had yelled
I know it’s hard to comprehend, but some people just aren’t interested in these things. I’m not interested in perpetuating this idea you somehow got, that making fun of people will improve your self-image. I wonder how you got this idea in the first place.
Did you yell at me because you thought you’d gain sympathy/empathy/approval from your friends in the SUV? Did you do it because you are angry at the world that you don’t get enough unfair advantages and try to put others down because they’re not the same color/gender/sexuality/body type as you, in the hopes that it’ll improve your ranking? Do you get so angry at your parents sometimes that you do things you know will get a reaction out of them, like yelling rude things at people walking?
All of these things are what we call “Toxic”, bro. Do you know why? It’s because they’re killing you from the inside. You’re setting yourself up to never accomplish anything with your own strength, and instead just leech off of a system that has provided you with a much better starting-point than others. Worst of all, you’re setting yourself up for a future of failed social situations, wherein all you know how to do is weakly insult others and have no ability to debate or argue or stand up for yourself. When you become the victim of this kind of comment someday, because someone else wants to make themselves feel better by putting you down, what are you going to do? Hope to deflect all of the negative attention onto the local Neville Longbottom? You won’t even know how to stand up for yourself, because you won’t have a shred of self-esteem other than “at least I’m not as inferior as ______”, and anyone attacking you will see right through this because predators have much keener senses when it comes to detecting weakness. You don’t. You only go after what we call “obvious targets”, the ad hominem types of insults, which are one step above name-calling which stopped being effective after Kindergarten or First Grade playgrounds.
Bro, please: Never, ever, ever try to make yourself feel better or look better by trying to make someone else feel or look worse. It doesn’t work, and you will seriously grow up hating yourself because you are still afraid that someone else is going to come along and do the same to you. Taking all that hate and turning it inward, there’s a term for that: Depression. It’s rage turned inward. The drugs may take the edge off, but it’ll never go away because the drugs don’t reach the root of it.
And finally, bro, you need to stop being so gullible about what they tell you about fashion, fitness, and so on. “Fat” is just an adjective, like “Tall” or “Fast” or even “Skinny”, but it doesn’t mean any of these things. Fat just means fat. Skinny just means skinny. There is no ranking system between the two of them. “Fat” doesn’t mean “Lazy/stupid/undisciplined/genetically inferior” - it just means fat. Skinny doesn’t mean “malnourished/anorexic/hot/fast”; it just means skinny.
Bro, somewhere along the line, someone implied to you that these adjectives are linked somehow, and they are not. That person was wrong. You were also wrong for accepting this definition, but you didn’t know better back then.
You will never make a single friend by being this toxic. The people who will tolerate your presence will only do so because you’re non-threatening, and that means they can betray you in a heartbeat because you’re just a follower; they don’t follow you. Bro, stop trying to follow this path that leads to loneliness, depression, and a reputation as nothing more than a throwaway bully antagonist character; instead, find your own path, and leave one behind for others to follow. No one’s body is any of your business unless they explicitly say so, and your unwarranted input on the state of their body is never appropriate.
Fuck you and your worthless updates.
Give me back the 1500-word post I just wrote before your ridiculous html ate it up when I hit backspace tagging it.
Give me back something called options without having to rely on XKit, too.
More digital painting practice, featuring Akane from Psycho-Pass! I was so excited to find out they’re airing fancied up episodes in preparation for a SECOND SEASON.
Akane is seriously one of my favorite female protagonists ever. She’s naive without being stupid, smart without being omniscient, and is strong in her ability to recover emotionally rather than not feel emotions. WHY IS UROBUCHI SO GOOD AT WRITING GIRLS!?
If you like scifi anime or Philip K Dick, I highly recommend checking Psycho-Pass out. I feel like it got kinda overlooked due to its pulpy premise (but I love its pulpiness <3 <3)
So much to learn about stupid digital painting =__=
I don’t know how tumblr knew to recommend this to me, because I’ve never revealed my Psycho-Pass marathoning to tumblr, but this show has it’s ISH TOGETHER.
The second season, I haven’t forgiven them for the fact that it’s just a retelling of the first, because I thought the first was flawless & wanted to see new content, but I will forgive them eventually. That’s what my coefficient predicts.
Also what you said about the writing- it thrilled me to see such a pulpy anime but with a protagonist who is female and altogether a largely feminist piece. It’s not just the emotional recovery that was her strength; it was her compassion, despite being in the criminal justice profession, that would someday change the world. No canon ships of the main character, either; that’s left to the fans. There is, however, canon pansexual and lesbian representation among some of the main characters.
If I had to explain this show to tumblr, I’d say it’s Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop with BBC’s Sherlock(the plots minus Moffat’s shit-tier writing) with Susan Fischer (the guard) from Orange is the New Black and a shining example of any storytelling technique you can think of. Woooo this series won on so many levels. I’m gonna make someone watch it if I can get them to stop texting during shows for 2 @#$% seconds
Don’t get me started.
like, in my defence, don’t tell me garlic bread isn’t at least a little aromantic.
it doesn’t want to love you, it just wants to make you fat. possibly happy. the last one is not a given.
I’m still thinking about this one, and if you think your embarrassment was bad, imagine my shame that I’m going to be pondering how garlic bread can be romantic for the next 24 hours. I’m a dweller about garlic bread-related thoughts.