I don’t understand how the quality of a person’s creative work can excuse their embodiment of blatant racist caricatures? I don’t care if they write catchy songs or whatever, that doesn’t excuse them of their racist acts and harmful cultural appropriation. Get some fucking willpower and turn that shit off.

Why is it that the only people who sass me on Tumblr are self-hating yt loving Latin@s and Jared Leto stans? Like I’ve never been at it with anyone except these two types of bloggers….?

altersociety:

I’ve got a big fat lougie waiting for the day I come across Gaga’s appropriating ass. Swear to gosh.

Just lost 4 followers porque no me gusta Gaga perooooooo no me importaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

I’ve got a big fat lougie waiting for the day I come across Gaga’s appropriating ass. Swear to gosh.

mamanicured:

altersociety:

mamanicured:

*Listens to M.I.A. once*

I want to spit in Lady Gaga’s face.

Chill

Fuck you.

mamanicured:

*Listens to M.I.A. once*

I want to spit in Lady Gaga’s face.

The first half of last night’s date was at the San Antonio Museum of Art, and we spent a good two hours there walking through all the exhibits, talking about art and life and ideas and each other. It was strange but so exciting to feel that tender in such a public place.

Of course, I had to make him laugh the entire time because it is so lovely and genuine and when he smiles I get all giggly and flustered in the best possible way.

The photo of me throwing it up was one of those silly type moments because the juxtaposition of my “21st century 8th grader with an attitude” pose against the interactive Matisse backdrop is a typical Paul move and he likes the way I move.

After the museum, we rode our bikes around the city and eventually bought dranks for the road and we got drunk in a park and I read him poetry and he told me he wanted to see me more and as often as possible.

I wanted so badly to kiss him goodnight, and he later told me he felt the same, but we were both apparently too shy to make the first move. He said he didn’t want to mess anything up, but I said to him that he has my consent to plant one on me when the time feels right. I did kiss him on the cheek though, a little peck to bid him farewell.

Needless to say, I’m content as one could ever be.

I wish I knew about skin care and hair care and all that lovely stuff, but I don’t use a lot of products because my body is really sensitive to fragrances… :/


Idk…

Sitting in a kiddy pool, trying to get some sun on me.

Sitting in a kiddy pool, trying to get some sun on me.

East side stuff.

East side stuff.

All my friends tell me that I’m a Samantha automatically without blinking every single time, but honestly, I know I’m a Carrie.

*sips pink drink while wearing a white cami with no bra*

Do our friends know us better than we know ourselves? And if so, is their advice the advice that matters most?Are we all self-fulfilling prophecies waiting to happen?

Stepping on Legos > waiting for a boy to text you back

Gravity bong got me fucked up and I’m supposed to go on a bike date in 30 mins. Lol, fucking cool.