xbenxsolox:

turnipfritters:

braucher:

Alexa, release my inhibitions

Sending your pornhub search history to all contacts in your address book now.

FEEL THE RAIN ON YOUR SKIN

rosemarywaterwitch:

torque-witch:

Man: Why can’t you get a better paying job?

Me: It’s the vagina, mostly.

Man: But this isn’t the 1930’s anymore.

Me: Then explain how I was turned down a job washing and doing minor repairs on tractors and his exact words were “I don’t think a woman can do this job.” How about when I worked at a body shop making really good money but was sexually harassed by the man paying me. Or what about when I was flipping houses and stopped getting paid so I had to track down the man paying me at his house.

Man: Why are you so interested in jobs that men do? Do you want to be a man?

Me, breathing heavily: I THOUGHT YOU SAID THIS WASN’T THE 1930’s ANYMORE DID I READ SOMETHING WRONG

PLEASE PREACH

beautifulfic:

beautifulfic:

The other day I answered the door to my postman. I was signing for stuff, like you do, when my kid came downstairs with only his underwear and a t-shirt on.

Now, the postman couldn’t see him from the front door, and I scribbled my signature and said, to my son, “You need to put some trousers on.”

My postman, very slowly, looked down at his trouser-clad legs with a mixture of confusion and horror, and then looked back up at me.

When I explained I was talking to my little boy out of his line of sight, he gave a very solemn nod and said: “I thought I’d put trousers on this morning, but suddenly when you said that, I really wasn’t sure.” 

Years after this, I still have the same postman. He still always wears trousers, but every time I answer the door, I’m pretty sure we both remember this incident.