We Landed On The Moon 20 Years Before We Figured Out How To Invent Dial-up Internet.

I just realized that “homeowner” has “meow” in the middle of it and now I can’t stop reading it as “ho-meow-ner”.

me: *practises bar 180*

me: *perfects bar 180*

me: *practises bar 181*

me: *perfects bar 181*

me: *plays bars 180-181*

me: *messes up both of them, worse than before the practice*

me: ???????????????????????????????????

Stanford just showed how NOT to react to sexual assault by blaming rape on alcohol

Stanford University has updated its alcohol policy to ban hard liquor at on-campus parties, in a move that some critics are saying is an inadequate response to sexual assault. The woman who survived Brock Turner’s assault had this to say about why alcohol isn’t to blame for rape.

A hahaha ew

More fun Zodiac facts here

I want this plastered on the doors of everyone I know

Being abused can seriously affect your ability to distinguish between “not obviously pleased” and “obviously displeased” because abusers go from Neutral to Hostile for absolutely no discernible reason, and eventually you start worrying that everyone is going to be like that and you start feeling this urge to make absolutely sure that the people you actually care about aren’t mad or upset, because to you, “there’s no evidence that they’re not angry” is the same as “there’s evidence that they are angry”

Respect my boundaries.

An afternoon poetry snack from Salt is for Curing by @sonyavatomsky. Because I’m so thoroughly enjoying this wonderful little book, in effort to encourage others to pick up a copy for themselves, I thought I’d share a portion of my initial reaction to it that I originally sent to @ghoulnextdoor, who recommended herself it late last year: 

‘Each time I open the book to whatever page cares to reveal itself, it’s like standing in a quiet, shadowy space and taking a bite of something dark and rich with such complex flavor - raw in some places, scorched in others, sweet, salty, bitter, the blood-tang of copper, acidic soil, earthy and rotten, yet full of enduring and defiant life - there’s so much here and it’s composed in a way that feels so new to me. So I don’t want to rush through it; I feel physically incapable of doing so. I want to savor each poem, let it roll around on my tongue, down my throat and into my stomach, heart, and head.’