11:46pm, 21/03/13

“Hey, is it too late to ask you to come pick me up?”

“Yes, but whatever, where are you?”

“Thank you, you’re da best!”

12:06am, 22/03/13

“Where the hell are you? I’m here!”

“Coming, coming, calm down”

“I need to find a place to stand that won’t get me a fine”

12:16am, 22/03/13

“Hurry up and get in the car, I’m in a taxi zone!”

“See ya later babe!… Yeah, alright, calm down, I need food, can we go maccas drive thru, I’m soooo drunk!! Wooooooo!”

An excerpt of the dialogue between my underage sister and I in the early hours of this morning. I told her no later than 11pm if she needs a lift, but my protective sisterly instincts kick in and I have to make sure she gets home safe, as long as it’s within my power to do so. So, as tired as anything, I got in my car and drove the half hour into the city to pick her up. I was not exactly pleased when I saw what she was wearing, but I kept my silence when she got in the car. The t-shirt she got at the party she went to was fine. But the skirt that almost barely covered her behind was what boiled my blood. In the middle of the city, in the middle of the night, she was flaunting herself for all to see. Including all the men. She complained to me in the car home that the guy she had gone with seemed uninterested in her, so whatever. I didn’t blame him, what with the antics she’s been up to lately. At the height of their “thing” (that is actually what she called it), she gushed about how much of a nice, intelligent boy he was and how she was learning so much from him. Good, I thought, she’s hanging around nice guys and not douche bags. So to hear her say she doesn’t care about anything anymore and won’t pursue that friendship is, well, honestly probably none of my business. But to do it in the manner that she has, that’s disgusting. So he didn’t like the fact you were acting like a drunken ditts last night, are you surprised, darling sister? Men of intellect hardly fancy a girl who has clouds for a brain. Or in this case, has simply forgotten herself for a few hours in favour of a drunken stupor. My sister is intelligent, so that’s why, apparently, all the boys like her. Not to mention gorgeous, funny, witty, sharp and generally a nice, caring person. But lately she’s become a bit narcissistic, getting caught up in the drinking culture of university. And this is why I’m now hearing about the douchebags chasing her and the nice guys running away. 

Disclaimer: I am not generalizing. All men are different and unique in their own right, but by their actions at certain times can fit the profiles that will be described as follows. 

For all those lovesick puppy dogs who moan the cry that titles this blog, I have a simple answer for you: You’re looking in the wrong place. If you go to bars and clubs and pubs and dress in the tightest, skimpiest little dress you can find, wear the tallest heels you’ve got, that you’re probably gonna take off before the night ends and cake on make up 3 inches thick then do you think some guys might be repulsed by that look? Then you go out with your girls, talking about superficial girly things and omg, how cute is that guy standing by the bar, I wonder if he’ll buy me a drink, do you think the guys with some smarts about them would give you a second look? And THEN about 3 hours later, you’re shooting your mouth off, saying completely unintelligible bullshit, amidst the vomiting you’re doing into that plant outside the bar, wouldn’t some guys just walk straight past you with disgust? And you have the gall to say,”There’s no nice guys out there anymore.” 

Well, honey, there is. I know many of them because I don’t throw myself at them, giving them little to no room for imagination because they can see it all already. The reason you think there isn’t any nice guys is because those guys you meet at clubs deliberately go out with the intention of a hook-up. Like, “Hey, bro, let’s see who can score tonight!” They’re the ones dancing too closely next to you, they’re the ones buying you drink upon drink to get you to “loosen” up. They’re the ones who do not care for you as a person, only that which you have displayed to them, your body. Well known fact: Males are visual. When you put it out there, it’s distracting. So of course he’s going to be focussed on your body. But Mr Nice Guy is the one standing at the bar that you tried to hit on and he turned you down, because he values women for more than a one night stand. He’s the one who isn’t there for a hook-up, but maybe for a date, maybe just to hang out with the boys and have a good time. You criticize him because he doesn’t appreciate you in the here and now. It’s not all about the here and now. He wants to value you as a person, with intelligence and opinions and hopes and dreams all your own. But he can’t do that if you don’t value yourself.

It’s a cruel cycle, and honestly, I blame society. Music videos these days are filled with pimps and hoes flaunting it everywhere and, hey, that’s okay, right? Girls are expected to dress to this standard as young as 10 years old. And boys see this and think that it’s okay to expect that from girls. So, in essence, society has brain-washed all of us to think it is okay to pressure the other gender to live up to this standard. In my opinion, it’s not a standard at all. It’s degrading, defaming and dehumanizing. Objectifying a person is depersonalizing them, making it all about the visual, the physical, the here and now. And girls, you know you do it too. Checking out guys to see if they make the cut is just as bad as them giving you the once over. But that’s the thing, society has made you believe life is about the here and now. It’s not. It’s about what is to come. What are your kids going to say in 20, 30 years time, when they see photos of you at their age? Are they going to be insecure about this societal standard that you’ve placed before them? Are they going to be disgusted and look for a better life? Or will they accept that that’s their lot in life, because look how well you turned out. 40-something, been smoking for 25+ years, drinking excessively, put on the pounds from a diet of coke, beer and takeaway food. No decent qualifications, no plans for the future, coz, hey, when you were 19, society told you to live fast, die young. But you didn’t and now you’re stuck with the choices you made and you’re bringing up the next generation of world leaders, scientists and intellects with a crass mouth and a pot belly. Is that really what you want to be when you grow older? There is a better way of living and better people out there to socialize with. What is our society that our main objective in life would be to get drunk and have sex? What kind of a life is that? I’ll tell you. It’s not a life at all.

So for all those girls in short skirts and tight tops, stop asking where have all the good guys gone, coz they’re right here, and start being the kind of woman that that guy would want. Maybe, just maybe then we might be able to raise up the next generation with honour and integrity, two words so rare in this hard and fast generation. 

It’s not about where are they? It’s about who will become the “they”!

And for those of you who are really stuck and cannot find any “nice guys” anywhere you go, try the library instead of the club. 

thatslothblog:

92x:

me seducing you

mmm

(via deejaywhy)

blackrosegentleman:

51aughterhouse-fiv3:

THEY CALL ME MISTER PIG!

one of my favourite scenes

deejaywhy:

mainly reblogging for woody and buzz, hahahah

I do like me some appropriate facial hair.

everybodyilovedies:

amandaonwriting:

Benjamin Dreyer is the VP Executive Managing Editor & Copy Chief of Random House Publishing Group. Below is his list of the common stumbling blocks for authors, from A to X. 

• One buys antiques in an antiques store from an antiques dealer; an antique store is a very old store.
• He stayed awhile; he stayed for a while.
• Besides is other than; beside is next to.
• The singular of biceps is biceps; the singular of triceps is triceps. There’s no such thing as a bicep; there’s no such thing as a tricep.
• A blond man, a blond woman; he’s a blond, she’s a blonde.
• A capital is a city (or a letter, or part of a column); a capitol is a building.
• Something centres on something else, not around it.
• If you’re talking about a thrilling plot point, the word is climactic; if you’re discussing the weather, the word is climatic.
• A cornet is an instrument; a coronet is a crown.
• One emigrates from a place; one immigrates to a place.
• The word is enmity, not emnity.
• One goes to work every day, or nearly, but eating lunch is an everyday occurrence.
• A flair is a talent; a flare is an emergency signal.
• A flier is someone who flies planes; a flyer is a piece of paper.
• Flower bed, not flowerbed.
• Free rein, not free reign.
• To garner is to accumulate, as a waiter garners tips; to garnish (in the non-parsley meaning) is to take away, as the government garnishes one’s wages; a garnishee is a person served with a garnishment; to garnishee is also to serve with a garnishment (that is, it’s a synonym for “to garnish”).
• A gel is a jelly; it’s also a transparent sheet used in stage lighting. When Jell-O sets, or when one’s master plan takes final form, it either jells or gels (though I think the former is preferable).
• Bears are grizzly; crimes are grisly. Cheap meat, of course, is gristly.
• Coats go on hangers; planes go in hangars.
• One’s sweetheart is “hon,” not “hun,” unless one’s sweetheart is Attila (not, by the way, Atilla) or perhaps Winnie-the-Pooh (note hyphens).
• One insures cars; one ensures success; one assures people.
• Lawn mower, not lawnmower.
• The past tense of lead is led, not lead.
• One loathes someone else but is loath to admit one’s distaste.
• If you’re leeching, you’re either bleeding a patient with a leech or otherwise sucking someone’s or something’s lifeblood. If you’re leaching, you’re removing one substance from another by means of a percolating liquid (I have virtually no idea what that means; I trust that you do).
• You wear a mantle; your fireplace has a mantel.
• Masseurs are men; masseuses are women. Many otherwise extremely well educated people don’t seem to know this; I have no idea why. (These days they’re all called massage therapists anyway.)
• The short version of microphone is still, so far as RH is concerned, mike. Not, ick, “mic.” [2009 update: I seem to be losing this battle. Badly. 2010 update: I’ve lost. Follow the author’s lead.]
• There’s no such word as moreso.
• Mucus is a noun; mucous is an adjective.
• Nerve-racking, not -wracking; racked with guilt, not wracked with guilt.
• One buys a newspaper at a newsstand, not a newstand.
• An ordinance is a law; ordnance is ammo.
• Palette has to do with colour; palate has to do with taste; a pallet is, among other things, something you sleep on. Eugene Pallette was a character actor; he’s particularly good in the 1943 film Heaven Can Wait.
• Noun wise, a premier is a diplomat; a premiere is something one attends. “Premier” is also, of course, an adjective denoting quality.
• That which the English call paraffin (as in “paraffin stove”), we Americans call kerosene. Copy editors should keep an eye open for this in mss. by British authors and query it. The term paraffin should generally be reserved for the waxy, oily stuff we associate with candles.
• Prophecy is a noun; prophesy is a verb.
• Per Web 11, it’s restroom.
• The Sibyl is a seeress; Sybil is Basil Fawlty’s wife.
• Please don’t mix somewhat and something into one murky modifier. A thing is somewhat rare, or it’s something of a rarity.
• A tick bites; a tic is a twitch.
• Tortuous is twisty, circuitous, or tricky; torturous is painful, or painfully slow.
• Transsexual, not transexual.
• Troops are military; troupes are theatrical.
• A vice is depraved; a vise squeezes.
• Vocal cords; strikes a chord.
• A smart aleck is a wise guy; a mobster is a wiseguy.
• X ray is a noun; X-ray is a verb or adjective.

I usually never reblog these bc I’m way too awesome to make mistakes, but omgosh there’s some I didn’t know here!!!

Because I needed this on my blog for future reference.

(via storyofageek)

So my housemate is kicking me out in two weeks. Well, I’ve been given notice. And to be honest, I’m relieved. I tried my hardest to live here as a means of restoring my mental stability. And I did for a while. But the dog hair on my floor, in my shower, on my plates and in my food. That’s not okay anymore. It’s okay to have standards. More than okay, it’s human right to have standards. I’m not lowering myself to her standards. So I have to move back home. An occurrence I didn’t want to happen because of who lives there. But others who live there have said they will prevent her from invading my privacy and personal space and will do anything they can to protect me. Which is reassuring. I still plan to move out of home. I asked a friend if he would consider it, as he would be the only person I could live with out of my friends, but he has already found another place to live. What with everything else that had gone wrong this week, that was the last straw. It’s okay to cry. Crying is good for you. But I have a plan now. As long as I can get through this week, everything will be okay. Because this is just a small bump on the road to eternity :)

blackrosegentleman:

He never raised his voice. That was the worst thing… the fury of the Time Lord… and then we discovered why—why this Doctor, who had fought with gods and demons, why he had run away from us and hidden. He was being kind…

This may be why I love Ten so much.  Most of the Ten posts I see on Tumblr involve shipping him with some companion.  But romantic attachment was only a small part of his character, and this story truly showed that he is like fire and ice.

The most terrifying thing about this scene is that Ten did this to all of them, without the slightest hint of expression. No hesitation or reluctance. No hint of sadness or displeasure from doing it. Because it had to be done, and he’s the only one who can do it. His face shows the indifference that he has and the iron law that he is forced to empower being the lone survivor.

I just watched this episode. David Tennant may now be my doctor because of this. <3

museumgrack:

katetheunready:

likeiknewiwould555:

principia-coh:

all-four-cheekbones:

daftwithoneshoe:

Shut up. I needed a kitten stealing a pancake on my blog.

Honestly, if you don’t need a kitten stealing a pancake on your blog, it had better be because you already have a kitten stealing a pancake on your blog.

Cat, what are you doing? You’re not an omnivore.

Reblogging for Liz and Kate.

yesssss

This would seriously be Gallifrey

I now have a kitten stealing a pancake on my blog :3

(via blackrosegentleman)

endquestionmark:

books

books all over my desk

books being used as coasters

books being used as extensions of the desk

books being used as bookmarks for other books

books being used as desks

books being used as a computer screen mount

books all over my house

books everywhere in my car

books that are old and yellowing

books that are fresh and crisp and new

(via storyofageek)

liamdryden:

onefitmodel:

YES

I gave up on Cyanide and Happiness ages ago but this is pretty clever and at no-one’s expense?

well done C&H

I like this. I quite like this. Yes I like traditional gender roles and feel that I can connect with them in regards to me personally, but I also like many things that are not cohesive to my being a traditional female. Amen to equality and my respect, C&H

(via storyofageek)

synesymposium:

ellie-the-eleph4nt:

qannekke:

naw-naw-naw:

xo-frnk:

” —this pencil is mighty hard to hold.”

(He is holding a crayon.)

“I want to go home now.”

“Upon completing the drawing, the patient starts laughing, then becomes startled by something on the floor.”

screw you all for finding this humerous. This was the most interesting thing I’ve read in a while.

^Agreed.

(via creativemachine)

saltandburnthewolves:

alice-hopper:

ask-the-guard-fireblastrp:

brony-55:

EVERYONE!!!

ALL OF MY FOLLOWERS!

^

(via creativemachine)

Because what else would one do but catch up on Tumblr?

unxoriginal:

kyerabianca:

All these colors were achieved with red, yellow, blue, and green food coloring mixed into white frosting. The amount of drops needed for the color you want is underneath the icing color. So convenient. :)

I love Mint Chip = 3 blue, 3 green

Click to enlarge!

(via annaandblue)

this is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen

(via acres-of-hope)

Tomorrow is February and since my January passed by with n’ary a goal or resolution written down, let alone achieved past the first week of January, in the spirit of growth and newness, I’ve written down a list of goals and resolutions, starting tomorrow, February 1st, 2013. Here is a sample of said resolutions, because no one reads this anyway:

- get dance lessons
- save $50 in long term savings a week
- learn how to sew
- write 200 words on my novel a week
- build my next desktop computer/media centre.
- develop a sense of style in regards to fashion
- plant a kitchen garden

A broad spectrum, I know, but a mere trifle of what I will achieve. I’m also reconsidering blogging again but I don’t usually have anything interesting to post about, or know anyone interested in reading my musings. In any case, I will make a slight effort to post here more often, if only for my own archival purposes.

~Fin~