Friendship is someone else’s butt in your face while you’re waxing her legs so she can go get sexy times. Friendship is also not smacking the monster with her head in your butt who’s yanking all your leg hair out by the root.
Turns out that Ice Cube is great background music for painful grooming practices
Lil’ gecko that died in my stuff years ago, discovered mummified and saved, finally mounted and framed.
time for haircut
And the upshot of it is actually kinda good. It lost all my preferences, so all my extensions went away and when I reinstalled them… tumblr savior works again for the first time in like 2 months. Which brings me to… no more BEYONCE on my dash every 3 minutes.
I don’t get it. I don’t understand her personality cult at all. I do not care about fabulous or fierce. Those are just words that describe a one-sided admiration, anyway. Why am I supposed to think she’s this end-all be-all beacon of excellence in womanhood and music? I do not think that she is those things. I do not like her music. There have been a couple of tunes of hers that I have enjoyed over the years, but generally it’s meh to ick in my book. What is the big deal about her singing about riding a dick anyway? Women have been recording songs about doing just that, and with agency, since women have been recording songs. The same can be said for every other thing feminists credit her for.
How much credit, though, is visibility actually worth? And to what extent is it actually healthy to make a role model of her? She has it all, but we don’t. How does her life experience speak to ours? Her looks and talents are dumb luck. Absolutely, she works hard to maintain, and nobody should try to take that away from her. Her work ethic is utterly admirable. At the same time, she was groomed for this from an early age by her family, not entirely unlike the Jacksons (but to my knowledge without the barbarity, thankfully) and for most of her life with the benefit of an increasingly effective PR machine. As the saying goes, it takes a mess of help to stand alone.
I don’t say that to try to tear her down, because that isn’t what I’m interested in. I bring it up because people are making her into something more than she is. It is her personality cult that I take issue with. Originally it was because I’m one of those people who gets burned right out when anyone gets a ton of exposure. Over time, though, people started feeling the need to justify their idolatry by assigning incredible amounts of import to just about anything she does, and that’s what irks me so much now. It isn’t healthy. She is a confident, graceful entertainer and public personality, not some kind of feminist deity ushering in a new and glorious age.
Her personality cult is such that if paparazzi caught her picking her nose, women all over would be musing over the deeper implications for women’s bodies and autonomy in public spaces and any number of other assignations of imaginary import, singing her praises loud and long, when all she did was get caught in an awkward moment with boogers. The funny thing is that nobody, regardless of their station in life, lets it get to them too much when they get busted digging. Again, how much credit is mere visibility worth?
So then people shout into the anonymous chasm of the internet about how if you don’t love her, they got no time for you, and that’s pretty funny in a couple of ways. The first is the simple fact they saw fit to make that announcement. The other is that it is an act of proclamation to the world by which these people partially define themselves in terms of an idealization of a person they’ll never be, and so many do this while connecting it to feminism on some level. There’s a sad irony for you.
I don’t begrudge the woman a single thing, but I do begrudge her fan base a good number of their projections. It really strikes me as being unhealthy.
Reblogging myself because every time she does anything, I have to quit the internet for a month so my eyeballs don’t roll out of my goddamned head. She flashed a word. It’s a scrap, people. A scrap.
the OILY MANIAC (1975)
Flippin’ you off with his gun hand
Every element of this drawing is perfect, down to the loose end of the belt dangling from the buckle. The shape and angle of the foot demonstrate a proud allegiance to a fine tradition in American cartooning. Jaime prevails again.
Lost in Space cyclops!
I had a model kit of this guy way back in 1971!
The Alnwick Poison Garden is pretty much what you’d think it is: a garden full of plants that can kill you (among many other things). Some of the plants are so dangerous that they have to be kept behind bars. [x]