Wacktacular

dick-rider-dave-strider:

dick-rider-dave-strider:

grandmoms are precious and must be protected at all costs

i told her i was posting this on tumblr and she said “let me know how many hits i get!!!” so just watch this and make an old woman happy

(Source: arin-hans0n)


nataliemeansnice:

my name is natalie and i’m fat. i’ve been more fat than i am now. i have been less fat. i’ve been the same fat. i’m fat from the side, fat from the front, fat from the back…you get the point.
fat girls have been lied to over and over in many ways our whole fat existences - told that we are restricted to certain styles/trends of clothing because anything too tight/short/revealing isn’t ‘flattering’. told that we should be glad to be hit on/cat-called by creepy men because hey, at least it’s something, right?! told that the world isn’t open to us and that we can’t be incredible creatures because we’re fat. told that we’re ugly/undesirable/weak/stupid/disgusting. told that we don’t deserve to be loved…or even to live.
it’s not true. none of it is true.
people ask me often - “i hate myself. how do you do it?” it’s simple.
one day, i decided that i was worth greatness, whatever size i was or wasn’t.
i wish i could go back to awkward, shy 13 year old me, look her dead in the eye and tell her that she. is. perfect. tell her that she can go anywhere, be anyone, wear anything and that she will always be important and will never, ever, ever be merely ‘the fat girl’.
i won’t drown in sweat in texas summers to cover my fat arms in sweaters or shield my thunder thighs from the spring breeze just because you don’t want to see them. my fat arms and thunder thighs have always been here for me when much of the world wasn’t. i won’t be beat down by people who do not care if i cry myself to sleep at night.
my mom has always told me that i am my biggest fan and ya know what?
she’s right.
you’re allowed to feel good. don’t let anyone take that away from you.
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nataliemeansnice:

my name is natalie and i’m fat. i’ve been more fat than i am now. i have been less fat. i’ve been the same fat. i’m fat from the side, fat from the front, fat from the back…you get the point.

fat girls have been lied to over and over in many ways our whole fat existences - told that we are restricted to certain styles/trends of clothing because anything too tight/short/revealing isn’t ‘flattering’. told that we should be glad to be hit on/cat-called by creepy men because hey, at least it’s something, right?! told that the world isn’t open to us and that we can’t be incredible creatures because we’re fat. told that we’re ugly/undesirable/weak/stupid/disgusting. told that we don’t deserve to be loved…or even to live.

it’s not true. none of it is true.

people ask me often - “i hate myself. how do you do it?” it’s simple.

one day, i decided that i was worth greatness, whatever size i was or wasn’t.

i wish i could go back to awkward, shy 13 year old me, look her dead in the eye and tell her that she. is. perfect. tell her that she can go anywhere, be anyone, wear anything and that she will always be important and will never, ever, ever be merely ‘the fat girl’.

i won’t drown in sweat in texas summers to cover my fat arms in sweaters or shield my thunder thighs from the spring breeze just because you don’t want to see them. my fat arms and thunder thighs have always been here for me when much of the world wasn’t. i won’t be beat down by people who do not care if i cry myself to sleep at night.

my mom has always told me that i am my biggest fan and ya know what?

she’s right.

you’re allowed to feel good. don’t let anyone take that away from you.