so i feel like i should tell you guys that i’ve found the formula for a perfect and incontrovertible insult:
you perfectly rectangular shitbowl!
you obscenely lamentable assbasket!
you fantastically nauseating dicksoiree!
go forth and blaspheme
I am laughing so hard.
Suddenly everything is beautiful.
DICKSOIREE. Sounds like my kind of party.
-Unknown English Teacher (via swarthyvillain)
I’ve never read anything more fucking true in my whole fucking life.
I actually really love this analogy.
This is the best explanation I can find for what happened when I turned 30.
But then, the truth was never really the point. Thin women don’t tell their fat friends ‘You’re not fat’ because they’re confused about the dictionary definition of the word, or their eyes are broken, or they were raised on planets where size 24 is the average for women. They don’t say it because it’s the truth. They say it because fat does not mean just fat in this culture. It can also mean any or all of the following:
Just plain icky
So when they say ‘You’re not fat,’ what they really mean is ‘You’re not a dozen nasty things I associate with the word fat.’ The size of your body is not what’s in question; a tape measure or a mirror could solve that dispute. What’s in question is your goodness, your lovability, your intelligence, your kindness, your attractiveness. And your friends, not surprisingly, are inclined to believe you get high marks in all those categories. Ergo, you couldn’t possibly be fat."
— Kate Harding (via annecarsons)