Pokemon Giveaway :D
Woohoo. Alright so I just got every single legendary not long ago, so now it’s time to giveaway the pokemon that people deserve! So here’s a list of what’s up for grabs!
- Shiny Palkia
- Shiny Dialga
- Shiny Giratina
- Shiny Rayquaza
- No need to follow :)
- 1 reblog and 1 like per person
- You need X and Y of course
- Willing to give Friend Code should you win
- Enjoy them!
There will be 5 winners:
- 1st place will get a choice from 3 of the above pokemon
- 2nd - 4th place will get a choice from 2 of the remaining pokemon, of course, the person who comes in at a higher ranking will get priority
- 5th place will get the last remaining pokemon.
And just for fun, one other contestant will receive a shiny eevee :)
Winners will be announced March 2nd, Sunday. Good Luck all :D
Let me try to get this off my mind. Not that I know where to begin, but this was originally what I made a tumblr for. I’m terrible at tumblr, apparently. Last night BF (boyfriend-face) came back to his room with a neatly folded pile of laundry. Laundry that he had done, but his female roommate (best friend’s gf) folded for him.
I’m upset about that.
I shouldn’t be. It’s stupid. That’s a ridiculous thing to be upset about. But I still am all the same.
*I* should be the one who gets to fold his damn laundry. Shouldn’t I? I am the girlfriend, am I not? He’s told me before he doesn’t like other people doing his laundry, so why does SHE get to fold it for him? Why is it perfectly fine when SHE does it? He tells me all the time he doesn’t like other people in the kitchen when he’s cooking, or helping him cook or whatever. But SHE always gets to cook with him. She always makes him laugh, all the fucking time. When I bring him home at night, he runs to wherever she is to hang out wih HER and talk to her about everything. EVERYTHING, apparently. He doesn’t think anything of it, but I certainly do.
Why am I the one that’s so horribly wrong for being upset about stuff like that? What if the shoe were on the other foot? Would he not ever feel the same way about it eventually? I’m so sorry that I have feelings, and that those feelings are apparently so freaking inconvenient for him. He doesn’t even want to try to begin to understand how things like that make me feel. He just wants me to stop being stupid, stop being annoying, stop being ridiculous, stop having dumb feelings, stop being human. I don’t even fucking WANT to have feelings in the first place. You think I LIKE having all these pathetic feelings, ever? Think I enjoy them? I fucking hate them, and they ruin everything. Unfortunately, no matter how much I hate it, I still am human. There’s nothing I can do about that, whether I like it or not.
And I don’t.
Maybe I’m not as much of the girlfriend as I think I am. It’s not like we ever have sex or anything anymore, hardly. Twice a freaking month, IF I’m lucky. Every time he hangs out with me, he just passes out right away; unless I drag him, mostly unwillingly, out somewhere.
Why do I even care? Why do I get so upset? I’m only the girlfriend. We’re not married or anything. Fuck, we don’t even live together. Maybe that’s just it. Maybe I’m jealous because 95% of ALL the people around me get to move in with their boyfriends that they’ve only been dating for 3 months, get engaged after only 6 months, everyone is getting freaking married, everyone is popping out their sticky, drooling babies, everyone else gets to fold THEIR man’s fucking laundry. Except me. I’m just sitting here with my thumbs up my ass. As usual. Shouldn’t even be surprised, I guess.
Yeah, I’m jealous. Jealous that someone ELSE’s girlfriend gets to live with my boyfriend, and I don’t.
I feel inadequate, inferior, left out - very left out, useless, why do I even bother? Apparently all I’m good for is chauffeuring him around and making him bring me food and tea in bed.
I feel like such a child. Still.
I HATE feeling inferior.
I hate everything, really.
I am the left brain. I am a scientist. A mathematician. I love the familiar. I categorize. I am accurate. Linear. Analytical. Strategic. I am practical. Always in control. A master of words and language. Realistic. I calculate questions and play with numbers. I am order. I am logic. I know exactly who I am.
I am the right brain. I am creativity. A free spirit. I am passion. Yearning. Sensuality. I am the sound of roaring laughter. I am taste. The feeling of sand beneath bare feet. I am movement. Vivid colors. I am the urge to paint on an empty canvas. I am boundless imagination. Art. Poetry. I sense. I feel. I am everything I wanted to be.
CAN I BE AMBRAINDEXTROUS
This is (one reason) why I love the internet.
Oh, god. I’m sobbing. This is one of the most beautiful things.
Instead of waiting in her tower, Rapunzel slices off her long, golden hair with a carving knife, and then uses it to climb down to freedom.
Just as she’s about to take the poison apple, Snow White sees the familiar wicked glow in the old lady’s eyes, and slashes the evil queen’s throat with a pair of sewing scissors.
Cinderella refuses everything but the glass slippers from her fairy godmother, crushes her stepmother’s windpipe under her heel, and the Prince falls madly in love with the mysterious girl who dons rags and blood-stained slippers.
Persephone goes adventuring with weapons hidden under her dress.
Persephone climbs into the gaping chasm.
Or, Persephone uses her hands to carve a hole down to hell.
In none of these versions is Persephone’s body violated unless she asks Hades to hold her down with his horse-whips.
Not once does she hold out on eating the pomegranate, instead biting into it eagerly and relishing the juice running down her chin, staining it red.
In some of the stories, Hades never appears and Persephone rules the underworld with a crown of her own making.
In all of them, it is widely known that the name Persephone means Bringer of Destruction.
Red Riding Hood marches from her grandmother’s house with a bloody wolf pelt.
Medusa rights the wrongs that have been done to her.
Eurydice breaks every muscle in her arms climbing out of the land of the dead.
Girls are allowed to think dark thoughts, and be dark things.
Instead of the dragon, it’s the princess with claws and fiery breath
who smashes her way from the confines of her castle
and swallows men whole.