My itty bitty pretty. Done in my own handwriting.
When I need to make a promise legit, I pinky swear it, even now in my 20’s :)
Done by James Eastwood @ Insight Studios in Chicago
Me too. And, more than that, I’m sick of the people using it.
Women are told almost constantly—by the media, the government, and the overall attitude of society—that our bodies don’t fucking belong to us. The mythical friendzone is just another way for misogynists to enforce that idea while getting to play the victim.
It sucks when someone you have feelings for doesn’t share those feelings; it happens to women all the time, too. We hear “I just want to be friends” and “you’re like one of the guys” and “you’re like a sister to me” just as often. But you’ll never hear a woman complain that guys just don’t appreciate a Nice Girl because we’re taught it’s our own fucking fault when we’re rejected—we aren’t pretty enough or thin enough or sexy enough, we weren’t sexual enough or were too sexual, we put out too much or too little or too soon or not soon enough, we didn’t wear our hair the right way or our skirt the right length, we’re “too tomboyish” or “too butch” or “too feminine”, or we’re “not their type”, or we’re otherwise not good enough in various ways to entice the man to grace us with his affection.
But when we’re not interested in someone, we’re vilified. We’re the bitch that lead them on, the bitch who let them buy us dinner but didn’t want to date them, the bitch who doesn’t appreciate a nice guy, the bitch they were nice to and then got nothing in return from.
And, frankly, fuck those people. Showing interest in me, being friendly with me, getting close to me, or eating a meal with me (even if they paid for it) doesn’t obligate me to open my heart or my legs. And anyone who doesn’t appreciate my friendship sure as hell doesn’t deserve my love or my pussy.
dat commentary
Every single person on tumblr needs to read this.
I’ve come to a point in my life in which I have realized I just don’t give a damn.
If the world didn’t suck, we’d all fall off.
That’s just the way it is.
This is my one & only tattoo. I got it because it’s a daily reminder to live my life while I can—to “seize the day”.
Everything seems to always go wrong,
And I hate feeling like a failure.
![fuckyeahretailrobin:
[Image Description: Background is several triangles in a circle like a pie alternating from true red, scarlet and black. A robin is sitting on his perch looking to the right. Top Text: “GO TO FIX PILLOW WALL.” Bottom Text: “WEEP”]
I work at Pier 1 and I have gone from feeling neutral about decorative pillows to hating their useless existence with a deep, fiery passion.](http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ludtcwM7Do1qm3qzeo1_400.jpg)
[Image Description: Background is several triangles in a circle like a pie alternating from true red, scarlet and black. A robin is sitting on his perch looking to the right.
Top Text: “GO TO FIX PILLOW WALL.”
Bottom Text: “WEEP”]I work at Pier 1 and I have gone from feeling neutral about decorative pillows to hating their useless existence with a deep, fiery passion.
Working retail isn’t so bad. In fact, I actually love my job. It’s just the dumb shit assholes who piss me off on a minutely basis that make working Christmas retail such a pain in my ass.
- No, I can’t find your magically lost coupon nor can I print one out of my ass if you put a quarter in me. It’s gone. Get over it. And if that means you aren’t going to buy anything because you don’t have your coupon, well, I don’t particularly give two shits.
- Yeah, asshole, tell customer service I didn’t help you because I did nothing but stand behind the register. I mean, it’s just freaking mind blowing that I have to stand back there to ring up customers. I mean, what the fuck. Who does that?
- For the love of God, do not amble about my store for 3 hours and then bitch that you have somewhere to be. Yeah well, I don’t want to be there with you either, douche bag.
- Do not leave your mocha-java-frappacino-on-ice-with-whipped-cream-latte-coffee on one of my displays. First off, why the FUCK did you need a freaking snack while shopping? Was it that physically exerting for you? Second off, please let me come into your home and leave piles of garbage on your tables and see how you like it.
- Do I look like an ATM? If you give me a $100 bill for a $10 purchase, I’m honestly not going to listen to you as you ramble off that you want a $20, two $5’s, six $1’s, forty-three pennies, etc. You’re going to get your change in the fewest bills possible. Sorry. Go to a bank if you wanna be specific.
- You know that nice person standing at the door that you were a complete twat to? Yeah, well, they’re getting paid to stand there and smile despite your douche-baggery. Please don’t ignore them because I do not want to answer your stupid “is this on sale” questions because you were too much of an asshole to pay attention before.
- I am not a GPS. Don’t park your huge ass SUV in front of the doors just to run in and ask me where something is. Whip out your shiny smart phone and use the data plan you pay an outrageous amount of money for and use the freaking navigation app.
- I may work retail but I am not as retarded as you think I am. Currently, I am a senior in college with an overall 3.87 GPA. I have taken Calculus Honors and plenty of other classes that you probably can’t even fathom. And look, I used a big word like “fathom”. So just because you went to college and came out with noting but an “Mrs.” degree does not mean that you can look down on me because your lawyer/doctor husband lets you have free reign with the credit cards.
- There’s a little thing called conversion. Its important. So, please, don’t walk into the store with your 20 kids-and-counting and only look at the front display before walking right out. It is a big freaking store. Leave some of the ankle biters with the bus outside and look around.
- Just think, as you and all your cute little girlfriends talk about the wonderful sit down lunch you just had together, I was sitting in the freaking Sheetz parking lot with a granola bar and an energy drink. If you can spend 2 hours eating at Olive Garden while I get 30 minutes to scrounge up some food, you can wait in line for 3 minutes without bitching about the wait. Honestly, do I look like I give two fucks?
- Is it Christmas yet? No? Then no, our Christmas shit isn’t on sale. When does it go on sale you ask? I dunno. The day after Christmas seems pretty logical to me. Do I know if it’s going to go on sale any earlier? Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.
- We are not a freaking yard sale or flea market. There’s a lovely white sticker on the bottom of the merchandise that tell you exactly what the price is. Yeah, that is pretty much the final price. Don’t try to haggle with me. It’s not going to work and you’re just going to look like a dumb, cheap asshole. If you don’t like the price range of the merchandise, then initiate Operation GTFO and piss off.
- The phone is a wonderful invention. Thank you, Alexander Graham Bell for creating something that proves to be a royal pain in my ass. You called my store. If you ask me to find some obscure clearance item, there’s a good chance you’re going to be put on hold. I know when I was in elementary, we had to practice phone etiquette. Either you skipped school on that day or failed to make it to the 3rd grade. Either way, don’t call my store and act like a total shit head. If it is that big of a deal, get off your lazy ass, load up the motorized scooter, and drive your unhappy ass to the store and find your own shit.
- The store’s ours are posted in lovely Christmas colors just for you right by the door. Do not expect a warm, happy greeting when you walk in 5 minutes before we lock the doors. I am trying to clean the store, get out, and get home to my handsome boyfriend and dog. What is so important that you couldn’t wait until the next day? Oh, nothing because you’re “just looking.” Well, you better be “just looking” when I flip you the bird when you leave 30 minutes later with no purchases in tow. Congratulations, not only did you screw up our conversion, but you pissed me off and made me late getting home.
- Last but not least, do not treat me like a total piece of garbage just to look up and say, “Merry Christmas.” It makes me want to take the closest Christmas tree and shove it so far up your ass that your eyes will glow like Christmas lights.
Carpe diem…
Seize the day. In the end, I may fuck up but I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.
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