(I am a girl. I am with my gay best friend, who is a guy. We are having a drink in a local pub.)
Homophobic Patrons: *hurling homophobic abuse at my friend*
My Friend: “I think I need to go. I’m not feeling very comfortable here.”
(Suddenly, a guy at the table next to us pipes in.)
Guy: “No! Don’t leave! You’ll only make them win!”
(The guy then stands up and confronts the homophobes.)
Guy: “I heard that the biggest abusers of gays are closet gays themselves that don’t have the emotional security to come to terms with themselves, and so take it out on those that do, out of jealousy.”
Homophobe #1: “Shut up, you gaylord! Or do you want to take it outside?”
Guy: “I would love to, and so would my friends drinking with me celebrating our recent win at the Ju-jitsu tournament.”
(The guy gestures to a table of about seven men; all seven stand to back him up. We are all suddenly aware of the large trophy in the middle of their table, clearly awarded for a martial arts tournament.)
Homophobe #1: “Hey, no worries man. I wasn’t trying to involve you anyway.”
Guy: “Yes you were. You were abusing someone that you didn’t know out of ignorance and insecurity, and no one should have to suffer because you’re useless as decent human being. Now, apologise to my friend and then leave this bar before you embarrass yourself even more.”
(Homophobe #1 turns to my friend.)
Homophobe #1: muttering softly* “Sorry.”
Guy: “Louder, please.”
Homophobe: “I’m… sorry.”
(The humiliated homophobe leaves with his friends. Our heroic saviour then turns to my friend.)
Guy: “Are you okay, mate?”
My Friend: “Are you gay?”
Guy: *laughs* “No, my friend. But thanks, I’m flattered.”
My Friend: “No, not for me! For her!”
(My friend shoves me in front of the guy.)
My Friend: “This is my friend. She is single, gorgeous, and in need of a heroic man in her life. You guys have a drink on me, because, trust me, if she doesn’t start dating you, I will!”
(The guy graciously accepts, and has a drink with me. Twelve years later, we are now married with children, with my friend as one of the godparents!)
Let Damian walk in boy’s black cap and gown for St. Pius graduation, Wednesday 22 May, 2013.
St. Pius High School administration is refusing to recognize Damian’s gender identity, even though all his classmates, teachers, and family know Damian as a male. Administration says because he has “female” marked on his birth certificate, despite the fact that he is now legally Damian and not Brianna he still must walk in a girl’s cap and gown for graduation.
That’s why I signed a petition to Barbara Rothweiler, Ph.D. Principal
Will you sign this petition? Click here:
I humanized the Magic School Bus, since it’s Ms Frizzle’s TARDIS equivalent! I mean, she IS a Timelord right? And the cliche of overused references ensued!
I’m so happy!
its back on my dash
wow she certainly is
Ms. Frizzle, did you wish REALLY hard?
The Magic School Bus was always my favorite.
You know, I appreciate support and everything…
But when I mention that I have my interview for the Signed Language Interpreting Program, don’t just fucking say, “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get in,” unless you actually have some sort of idea of how possible that is. It isn’t supportive, it’s passive. Yes, I like encouragement, but simply saying, “You’ll get in. You practice so much!” or “You’re great, of course they’ll accept you,” just shows how ignorant about ASL and the Program you actually are. WHICH IS FINE. Entirely and completely. I by no means expect you to know about those things. Why would you? The intricacies of my likelihood of being accepted are not pertinent to your life. But jesus. Stop telling me I’ll get in just because you want to be nice. Tell me good luck. Ask me how I’m feeling about it. Tell me I’ll do well in the interview. Ask what my likelihood is or what I have to do in the interview. Either be nice by actually giving a fuck or shush.
**I know I’m being rude and I’m sorry. I’m just fucking sick of it.
THE BALLERINA PROJECT
One of my favorite NYC sights is seeing dancers warming up in the subway…have you experienced it? You’re waiting for the train and all of a sudden the person standing next to you starts to do a plie. There’s just something about that kind of beauty against a urban backdrop.
Which is why I’m equally fascinated with a photo series that’s been around for sometime now, The Ballerina Project. It’s an ongoing project by Dane Shitagi that depicts ballerinas amongst organic backdrops.
The project has been going steady for 10+ years in New York and now it’s trying to move on to a new phase – mini documentaries to compliment the photographs. Dane hope these will give new audiences a more complete and accurate representative of ballet to help sustain its future.
**STORY was originally written for ARTNERDNY
Photos that speak: Fuck your fountain. Fuck your tree. Fuck voter suppression. Fuck your labels. Fuck your stereotypes. Fuck your hatred. Fuck your restaurants. Fuck that dude. Fuck police brutality. Fuck white supremacy.
I have nothing left to say.
The pictures they don’t show in our US History books.
And two of these pictures aren’t very old either. One was taken in 2012 I think? (Not sure).
The only problem with gettimg my hair trimmed?
The intense amount of nostalgia and angst it gives me about having short hair…
Just makes me miss the hair I had befor that went along with other sets of bangs…. Aye yae yae.