60% of Dear Prudence letters are like “My wife thinks my casual murder of hitchhikers on the highway is ‘disgusting’ and ‘criminal,’ and a betrayal of the 6th commandment, but SHE was the one who told me to get new hobbies. I feel like this is really putting the marriage to the test.”
This is me. Like if it would be too spicy to give to the elderly/person with a heart condition, then it’s too spicy for me and my delicate sensibilities.
Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it’s all a male fantasy: that you’re strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.
Margaret Atwood, The Robber Bride (via sealedtome)
I'm the terrible sort of person who gets legitimately upset that their CSA doesn't take AmEx . I'm a beer snob and baseball nerd, though I take issue with the #NATITUDE hashtag on principle. I'm all for stopping to get coffee even though I'm already mad late.
I had a brief love affair with Android, but I'm back in the clutches of Apple, ATM