Sarcastic Opinionated Feminist

chainofaffection:

beyoncesugarbaby:

licquoricebitch:

chainofaffection:

Have you ever come across a homeless individual and felt totally uncomfortable?

You see them and you know they are in need, but you are not sure what to do. You know that handing them money is not the best thing. But, you also see that they clearly have some needs. Their lips are chapped. They are hungry. They are thirsty. They are asking for help.

How can you help?

Here is a simple idea - blessing bags.

This was such an easy project. We are now going to keep a few “Blessing Bags” in our car so that when we do happen to see someone on the streets who is homeless, we can hand them a Blessing Bag. I first learned of these bags from my friend, Julie. I am using the picture of her bags (see above) because the ones we took were taken in horrible lighting and turned out really grainy and hard to see what is inside of them.

If you’d like to make your own Blessing Bags, this is what you would need:

Gallon size Ziplock bags

items to go in the bags, such as:

chap stick

packages of tissues

toothbrush and toothpaste

comb

soap

trail mix

granola bars

crackers

pack of gum

band aids

mouthwash

coins (could be used to make a phone call, or purchase a food item)

hand wipes

you could also put in a warm pair of socks, and maybe a Starbucks gift card

Assemble all the items in the bags, and maybe throw in a note of encouragement. Seal the bags and stow in your car for a moment of providence.

This would be a great activity to do with some other families. Each family could bring one of the items going into the bags (ex: toothbrushes). Set up all the items around a table and walk around it with the ziplocks and fill the bags.

http://kwavs.blogspot.com/2011/05/blessing-bags-how-to.html

oh man i wanna do this

mee tooo. im bout to go to the dollar tree and rack up or a wholesale store.

All these reblogs make me so happy to see. So many amazing people on tumblr

(Source: yourpersonalcheerleader, via we-are-the-weirdos-mister)

datingsitebags:

Insulting a woman is OKAY as long as you use the right grammar…

(Source: datingsitedbs)

madamethursday:

[Image: A large cyan blue square with two horizontal pink lines inside making an equals sign. The text reads: “Equality is for everyone. Stand up for Trans rights. They’re human rights too.”]

truthisweirder:

From the designer:

My Facebook and G+ newsfeeds have been filled with pink and red lately, so it seemed important to point out to the queer and allied in my life that Human Rights Campaign actually has a track record of promoting some rights at the expense of others. Being a fairly rough-and-tumble sort of cisgender queer man, I waded in.

It’s frankly unconscionable; transgender rights are integral to queer liberation, and moreover transfolks are our sisters and brothers, have shed the same blood, sweat, and tears in horrifying numbers for the same goals. The fact that names like Virginia Prince and Sylvia Rae Rivera aren’t as prominent in our histories as Harvey Milk says, I think, all it needs to about the need for some pink and purple soul-searching. Go forth and introspect.

Visually, too, I think the HRC equality logo leaves a bit to be desired, but I made minimal changes. The colors are based on the transgender pride flag designed by Monica Helms in 1999, the most widely used of several designs and to my eye, the most pleasing.

Considering that HRC seems to be continuing to give lip service to trans folks while throwing them under the bus, this is important and timely.

People need to know that the most visible LGBT “equality” organization out there continues to only fight for gay and lesbian equality at the expense of everyone else.

Trans allies, please repost. (And don’t give money to HRC.)

(via fatbodypolitics)

fuckyeahthespianpeacock:

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!

I get naked.

FULL naked.

REAL naked.

I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.

No cookies. Blatant nudity.

That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…

And there it was.

This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.

Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.

“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”

Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”

As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.

This was, nearly, one of those.

If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.

My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.

I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:

“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”

And inquiries such as:

“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”

Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit retard, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?

That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.

An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.

(via colombiangel)

(Source: lesleypowers, via diaryofanarabfeminist)