people who say offensive shit cause they think it’s funny or edgy are honestly so embarrassing
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Sometimes I love you, sometimes I hate you, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss you.
Boy-so-pale (via boy-so-pale)
Funny story
Freshman year of high school. I’m the kid who went on the bus and was edgy af. So here I am, running late and asking my mom to take me to the bus stop because I’m a slow fucker who wouldn’t run even if the world was ending or a murderer was after me.
As she drops me off, my friends are already there and they watch my car pull up. I tell my mom the usual ‘love you bye’ and get out of the car. I think I’m safe.
As I begin chatting with my pals, my mom does a fucking U-Turn and pulls down the window of the car, flips me and my friends off and yells “BYE BITCHES” and drives off.
My friend looks at me and he asks, “dude was that your sister.”
I wince and reply, “that was my mom.”
“What the fuck?????”
“Don’t ever bring this up.”
And guess what? She did the same thing for sophomore and junior year. Why mom. Why. My friends don’t let me live this down.
Destroy the idea that tattoos make you trashy
Destroy the idea that white ppl with tattoos are edgy and poc with tattoos are dangerous
STORY TIME:
I work in a decent sized, local, indie bookstore. It’s a great job 99% of the time and a lot of our customers are pretty neat people. Any who, middle of the day this little old lady comes up. She’s lovably kooky. She effuses how much she loves the store and how she wishes she could spend more time in it but her husband is waiting in the car (OH! I BETTER BUY HIM SOME CHOCOLATE!), she piles a bunch of art supplies on the counter and then stops and tells me how my bangs are beautiful and remind her of the ocean (“Wooooosh” she says, making a wave gesture with her hand)
Ok. I think to myself. Awesomely happy, weird little old ladies are my favorite kind of customer. They’re thrilled about everything and they’re comfortably bananas. I can have a good time with this one. So we chat and it’s nice.
Then this kid, who’s been up my counter a few times to gather his school textbooks, comes up in line behind her (we’re connected to a major university in the city so we have a lot of harried students pass through). She turns around to him and, out of nowhere, demands that he put his textbooks on the counter. He’s confused but she explains that she’s going to buy his textbooks.
He goes sheetrock white. He refuses and adamantly insists that she can’t do that. It’s like, $400 worth of textbooks. She, this tiny old woman, bodily takes them out of her hands, throws them on the counter and turns to me with a intense stare and tells me to put them on her bill. The kid at this point is practically in tears. He’s confused and shocked and grateful. Then she turns to him and says “you need chocolate.” She starts grabbing handfuls of chocolates and putting them in her pile.
He keeps asking her “why are you doing this?” She responds “Do you like Harry Potter?“ and throws a copy of the new Cursed Child on the pile too.
Finally she’s done and I ring her up for a crazy amount of money. She pays and asks me to please give the kid a few bags for his stuff. While I’m bagging up her merchandise the kid hugs her. We’re both telling her how amazing she is and what an awesome thing she’s done. She turns to both of us and says probably one of the most profound, unscripted things I’ve ever had someone say:
“It’s important to be kind. You can’t know all the times that you’ve hurt people in tiny, significant ways. It’s easy to be cruel without meaning to be. There’s nothing you can do about that. But you can choose to be kind. Be kind.”
The kid thanks her again and leaves. I tell her again how awesome she is. She’s staring out the door after him and says to me: “My son is a homeless meth addict. I don’t know what I did. I see that boy and I see the man my son could have been if someone had chosen to be kind to him at just the right time.”
I’ve bagged up all her stuff and at this point am super awkward and feel like I should say something but I don’t know what. Then she turns to me and says: I wish I could have bangs like that but my darn hair is just too curly.“ And leaves.
And that is the story of the best customer I’ve ever had. Be kind to somebody today.
muslims: *get harassed, beaten, killed, called terrorists and blamed for actions done by people they have no relation to at all*
muslims: i’m so tired of all the damn islamophobia in the world!
white people: why are you so aggressive??? aren’t muslims supposed to be peaceful???
indie blog
???? what’s so indie about islamophobia ????
Here in Scotland they mock my culture and then take it. In Bangladesh, I am looked down upon because of the colour of my skin - my beautiful, glowing, brown skin. Unfair is lovely and the bindi ain’t indie!
A thing happened on campus
So my name is Joey White and I’m a very pasty pale British white guy at uni overseas. So I was introducing myself and this guy from Nigeria goes “Hi, I’m Joseph” so I said, “I’m a Joseph too! Joseph White.” Then he looked me in the eye and said in a dead serious tone “I’m Joseph Brown” and we nearly died.
oh dear god
Fear Allāh!
A man told Abū Ḥanīfā to fear Allāh and he began to tremble and became pale.
Then Abū Ḥanīfā said: “May Allāh reward you! We need to be reminded of this!”
● [سير أعلام النبلاء ٦\٤٠٠]