Queerbee

Where i post NSFW next to Disney Stuff.

yourscientistfriend:

Ferguson vs Pumpkin fest  The media’s treatment of these two events were shameful!

yourscientistfriend:

Ferguson vs Pumpkin fest
The media’s treatment of these two events were shameful!

(via thekyriarchywontfuckitself)

deycallmetrey:

I’m so weak rn

deycallmetrey:

I’m so weak rn

(Source: gaymerzone, via dustidustbunni)

swyrs:

there’s a “photo” going around of Emma Watson wearing a dress that is see-through at the top, showing her breasts, and because apparently literally nobody fact-checks or uses google, people are taking it for granted that it’s real and reblogging it.

i get that the way it’s being framed on tumblr is as a woman taking back her right to her body and her sexuality and as a response to 4chan threatening to release nude photos, but in reality it’s literally the opposite. it’s something some gross misogynistic asshole with too much time on his hands made in photoshop with the intent of humiliating and violating a woman.

please don’t reblog it, don’t contribute to it, and if you see people reblogging it, let them know. 

image

(via qqmoarz)

positivedoodles:

requested by mad-madamoiselle-mim

give-a-fuck-about-nature:

Medicinal Plants Worthy of Your Garden Space

(via hothersheys)

hermionemollycharliepond:

just-raowolf:

edenwolfie:

my year 8 students had to do a budgeting activity pretending they were living out of home on $2000 a month and I find this written on there help I can’t fucking breathe

We had to do this and I was partnered with a boy whose parents are a scientist and a doctor. My family spawned the book: Top Drawer Villain - autobiography of a London criminal.
First of all, we had to choose where we would shop. He wanted to buy from Booths. “We are not buying from Booths," I snapped. "Get on Asda’s website right now." His face froze.
“A-Asda?" he whispered. "But that’s where… The Lower Classes shop.”
This was a good start.
We then had to decide on a menu. We started on breakfast. “Toast," he said.
“Toast," I said. "Great. Look, Asda has its own wholemeal—”
“Warburton’s thick-slice white bread. Nothing else. With olive oil.”
“You WHAT?" I choked. "You have olive oil, on your toast, in the morning?”
He frowned. “Who doesn’t?”
“Okay," I said, "but what will the children eat?”
He gaped at me. “The children? We have children?”
We continued. All was well until it came to what we would have on our sandwiches. We even sorted out the children’s lunch - they, of course, would get free school meals. “Yes," he agreed; "if we can’t even afford Bertolli then they can get school meals on the government.”
He asked what dressing we should have on our ham. “Nuh-uh," I said. "Can’t have ham. I’m vegetarian.”
“But I’m not.”
“Yes, but we’re married and we can only afford one sandwich filler so it has to be vege—”
“We’re married!?”
“Of course we’re married! You’re devout Christian - how do you think I convinced you to have children?”
He shook his head, frowning. “Well I want ham. You’ll have to put back the washing powder - I need ham on my sandwiches.”
We continued. Finally, it was dinner. “Okay," he said, clearly thinking hard; "for dinner, we can have… Chicken nuggets and… Beans?”
“Vegetarian.”
“Vegetarian nuggets then. And beans.”
“We need vegetables. The children have to have a balanced diet.”
“You and your children!" he yelled, and the whole class looked around.
“They’re your children too!" I screamed back.
He leapt to his feet, shaking his head and looking distraught. “I don’t believe it - I don’t believe you! I wouldn’t have your children!”
“Please," I cried, standing up also. "Don’t—”
“I want a divorce!”
And he walked out of the classroom.
The teacher stood up and stared between me and the door through which he had vanished. “I’m sorry," I whispered, "but we couldn’t do it any more. There were just too many differences - I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is a budget.”
I can’t wait to see this guy when he gets to university.

READ THE WHOLE THING

hermionemollycharliepond:

just-raowolf:

edenwolfie:

my year 8 students had to do a budgeting activity pretending they were living out of home on $2000 a month and I find this written on there help I can’t fucking breathe

We had to do this and I was partnered with a boy whose parents are a scientist and a doctor. My family spawned the book: Top Drawer Villain - autobiography of a London criminal.

First of all, we had to choose where we would shop. He wanted to buy from Booths. “We are not buying from Booths," I snapped. "Get on Asda’s website right now." His face froze.

A-Asda?" he whispered. "But that’s where… The Lower Classes shop.

This was a good start.

We then had to decide on a menu. We started on breakfast. “Toast," he said.

Toast," I said. "Great. Look, Asda has its own wholemeal—

Warburton’s thick-slice white bread. Nothing else. With olive oil.

You WHAT?" I choked. "You have olive oil, on your toast, in the morning?

He frowned. “Who doesn’t?

Okay," I said, "but what will the children eat?

He gaped at me. “The children? We have children?

We continued. All was well until it came to what we would have on our sandwiches. We even sorted out the children’s lunch - they, of course, would get free school meals. “Yes," he agreed; "if we can’t even afford Bertolli then they can get school meals on the government.

He asked what dressing we should have on our ham. “Nuh-uh," I said. "Can’t have ham. I’m vegetarian.

But I’m not.

Yes, but we’re married and we can only afford one sandwich filler so it has to be vege—

We’re married!?

Of course we’re married! You’re devout Christian - how do you think I convinced you to have children?

He shook his head, frowning. “Well I want ham. You’ll have to put back the washing powder - I need ham on my sandwiches.

We continued. Finally, it was dinner. “Okay," he said, clearly thinking hard; "for dinner, we can have… Chicken nuggets and… Beans?

Vegetarian.

Vegetarian nuggets then. And beans.

We need vegetables. The children have to have a balanced diet.

You and your children!" he yelled, and the whole class looked around.

They’re your children too!" I screamed back.

He leapt to his feet, shaking his head and looking distraught. “I don’t believe it - I don’t believe you! I wouldn’t have your children!

Please," I cried, standing up also. "Don’t—

I want a divorce!

And he walked out of the classroom.

The teacher stood up and stared between me and the door through which he had vanished. “I’m sorry," I whispered, "but we couldn’t do it any more. There were just too many differences - I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is a budget.

I can’t wait to see this guy when he gets to university.

READ THE WHOLE THING

(via twotabletaylor)