Bitch, I'm hiding razor blades in my clit.

needle:

feministsbakecupcakestoo:

beardsociety:

• beards with lipstick.
• naked muscular bearded dudes.

stop that shit.

Sorry guy, but beards with lipstick are awesome!

what she said, and also

Ummm beard with lipstick is the best beard what the fuck.

Tonight I cleaned her cage, filled her bowl and hay holder like usual. She was hopping about, maybe a bit less frisky than usual but not out of the ordinary. I put her dustbath in her cage and went to take a shower. When I got out she was sitting in her bath, doing a kind of hiccup type thing she has done before when overexcited. She started to roll a bit, like she was going to take a dustbath… then she just kind of flopped over and was still. After a moment of no moving I went to take the dustbath out of her cage and she didn’t move. I freaked out and pulled her out of the dustbath and saw that she was not breathing. She was completely limp. I ran to Andy and Ben’s bedroom and beat on the door and cried for Andy while feeling her ribs for a heartbeat, but she was gone.

I just held her tiny little body to my chest and did an ugly cry for 45 min. Her fur was just matted with my tears. I kept thinking she’d snap out of it and wake up. Andy brought me a shoebox for her and we ate all the ice cream so there was room for her in the freezer.

I have had Cheerio since before I moved to Austin. For a couple of years she had to live with my parents because my living situation was so fucked up. I finally had gotten my life together enough to bring her home at Thanksgiving. 

She is my baby. My shitty abusive ex husband threatened to kill her once because I hadn’t gone to the store for more sodas, that was the catalyst for me finally being able to be able to leave him. During the divorce I had constant nightmares, she calmed me so much, I could always give her a cuddle in the middle of the night and go back to sleep. 

I had just bought her a new toy earlier in the day, and a new bag of hay…

I don’t know what the fuck happened. She wasn’t sick. She was eating and drinking normally. She just…died, right before my eyes.

survivor-problems:

When you’ve been beaten down so much into believing that what happened to you is your fault that you become consumed with guilt over even existing, and find yourself having a panic attack over wasting or throwing away even the smallest thing, because you are contributing to the destruction of the planet and its demise will feel all your fault.

submitted by  toranseisstrong 

pompadoursandpincurls: