Mar. 9th, 2017



wow my brother was telling me this joke and he said

“if you’re fighting with a woman and she pulls a knife on you, just pull out the bread and cheese and meat and her womanly instincts will kick in and she’ll just make you a sandwich”

then all of a sudden our mom emerges from the kitchen holding a huge ass knife and she approaches my brother asking “sorry what was that?” and he started screaming

100000000 points to mom.

To add onto this, I have a friend who’s a doctor. He often does rotations in the ER, which serves a metropolitan area. He said one night, horizontal on his couch after a shift as he often is when I’m visiting, “I got one statistic for ya about domestic assault involving a kitchen knife.”

“Oh?” I said.

“Without basically zero exceptions, every time, you can ask the victim, who is always a man, what did you do to her, and every single time, you will be right to ask it, and pretty much every single time, you’ll be like, man, you deserved it.” 

“Really,” I said.

“One hundred percent, the perp is a woman, and the victim is a man who done her wrong,” he said. “The only time the formula varies is sometimes you can’t get him to tell you what he did wrong.” He contemplated the ceiling for a moment. “Which is why it’s not a HIPAA violation for me to tell you this,” he added, “because it’s so goddamn common there’s no possible identifying information in this.”
via reblogged your post “girly-fanatic: reichenbackdatassup: wow my brother was telling me this joke and he said “if you’re fighting with a…”

#i don’t give a shiny shit if it’s a man or a woman#domestic violence is no joke#and no they didn’t deserve it

Oh, he meant usually that the woman had stabbed the man in self-defense. He’s just the doctor, he’s got no legal opinion.
I’m forever rattling around between WIPs and that’s fine, I like that, it’s how I work best, but– my current problem is that I’m slightly fixated on writing a completely unusable Baze/Chirrut scene that will have to be a Deleted Extra from the Sled Dog story, I know that before I even write it, because it has an outsider POV that makes too much clear that Bodhi doesn’t know, and Bodhi’s the sole POV for the story and the point is that the reader finds out only what he knows. 

So I shouldn’t write it, but. It involves Donnie Yen’s abs and I can’t. I mean. I just. It’s really. I can’t look away, mentally.
Today’s outfit includes snowflake-patterned socks, denim jeggings, a red knit lace-up tunic, striped arm warmers, a plaid check shirt, and a sparkly faux-fur leopard print vest. Oh and rubber boots. I’m a fashion plate.

Donald Trump’s new FCC boss, Ajit Pai, has nuked an Obama-era rule that banned ISPs from selling off your browsing data, location, financial and health information, children’s information, Social Security Number and contents of your messages, without your permission. The now-defunct rule also required ISPs to notify you when they got hacked and your sensitive personal information got out into the wild.

Just to be sure that this rule never comes back, Senate Republicans have introduced a resolution that invalidates the old FCC rule and bans the FCC from ever imposing a rule of this nature. The resolution was authored by Senator Jeff Flake [R-AZ, Twitter, email, DC office 202-224-4521, Phoenix office 602-840-1891, Tuscon office 520-575-8633] and backed by 23 other Republicans.

Senator Flake says that he will “protect consumers from overreaching Internet regulation” and his rule “empowers consumers to make informed choices on if and how their data can be shared.” He didn’t explain how that would work, though.

This is for the miracles,
for the redemption, for the mighty deeds,
for the saving acts and
for the resistance of our ancestors
in days of old, at this very time…

First night of Hanukkah 1909 and
the worst snowstorm in twenty years
was slowly gathering
the wind ripping holes
through the lines of strikers
huddling against the piercing cold.

Among them was young Clara Lemlich
the same one who just two weeks earlier
stood impatiently in Cooper Union
hour after hour
listening to the union men drone on
until fed up, she grabbed the podium and sent
Yiddish words flying, inciting
sparking, then finally

I am a working girl
one of those who are on strike
against intolerable conditions.
I am tired of listening to speakers
who talk in general terms.
What we are here for
is to decide whether we shall strike
or shall not strike.
I offer a resolution
that a general strike
be declared now.

Thus exploded the Uprising of the Twenty Thousand.

After the smoke had cleared
the ILGW won union contracts at every shop
save one: the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory
who said no to new changes, no to fair wages
no to any union in our shop.

One year later the Triangle burst into flame,
sending working women plummeting to their deaths
like sparks flying, sputtering and disappearing
on a cold winter’s night.

That’s how it is with miracles:
we rededicate the Temple
but in due time it will fall.
The miracle isn’t the fire that lasts, no
the miracle is where we find
the strength to rise up
and relight the fire
once again.

- Rabbi Brant Rosen, The Ballad of Clara Lemlich (via faegayleh)
Today’s postcard, inexpertly hand-lettered and colored in not my best work but with my sincerest intentions, for WNYMuslims.
I feel like solidarity cards would work better if signed by a group but I’m sort of on my own with this crazy project so solo has to be adequate for now.



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