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I’d really recommend you all go see Pride - great movie about the history of the LGBT movement standing in solidarity with the miners. Really entertaining and well worth watching.

Despite all that, it’s yet another film in this genre with a shocking lack of POC and minority representation - still have miles to go before we sleep people.

It’s as vain as anything you’d expect of me, but I had this wish, that when it happened for me, I’d be loved the way I love, or a little like it. I wanted someone who’d be besotted with me, who’d look at me the way you’d look at a volcano, or the world’s tallest building.

I don’t need any help to be breakable, believe me
I know nobody else who can laugh along to any kind of joke
I won’t need any help to be lonely when you leave me.

I’m having trouble inside my skin
I try to keep my skeletons in
I’ll be a friend and a fuck-up
And everything

But I’ll never be
Anything you ever want me to be.

#I don't want you to greive but I want you to sympathise#it'll be easy to cover gather my skeletons far inside#the national#slipped
I don’t need any help to be breakable, believe meI know nobody else who can laugh along to any kind of jokeI won’t need any help to be lonely when you leave me.
I’m having trouble inside my skinI try to keep my skeletons inI’ll be a friend and a fuck-upAnd everythingBut I’ll never beAnything you ever want me to be.


Grief by Iviva Olenik

I’ve only just stumbled upon this artist and I’m already a little bit besotted. Please check out her blogspot here.

Feels applicable.


Grief by Iviva Olenik
I’ve only just stumbled upon this artist and I’m already a little bit besotted. Please check out her blogspot here.

Feels applicable.

I’ve been trying to think of the perfect way to describe my Granddad; I’ve felt like if I could only say just exactly who he was then everything would be a little easier. He isn’t here now but if I have a sentence or two, some perfect words to hold onto then I’ll have something.

But of course, he was a real person and real people aren’t exactly anything, they can’t be contained in a couple of paragraphs and they’re different words to different people. I don’t have the same idea of a Granddad as they have a Father, a brother, a friend, a husband.  To find something universal to say about a person, something we would all recognise as them, isn’t a simple thing.

When I think about Granddad, mostly it will be of a man in love. Of the word bub, of waltzing with Grandma in the dining room, of being totally smitten. I will remember looking through old photos two years ago, how he said to me, “Doesn’t your Grandma have cracking legs? She still does!”  I will remember how he could sit for hours and talk about their children and why they are wonderful; how they’re dedicated, hard-working, kind, sharp, talented people. He always made me feel so special, not like I might do something important, or as if I could have a great life, but that I just would. Definitely, no question, he always sounded so convinced of it. To believe in someone is one thing, but to have so much faith in them they can feel it is something else entirely.

So it sounds a bit ridiculous to say that his universal quality, that thing we can all recognise him for is how much he loved us, but that’s what I’m keeping now . I will hope that after fifty years of loving someone I am still giddy with it. I will be proud of the life we build together, our home or family and I will not be afraid to let the people I love see how much I care about them, how well I think of them, because I’ll know how much that can mean to someone.

One of the last times I came up to visit him, I brought Beccat to meet him. It is hard, to introduce a person as ill when you’ve known him all your life as strong, as working hard, as busy. It was hard to see him, as ill as he got and I can’t imagine how frustrating it was for him, but when I brought her there, despite all that, there was still so much that stayed the same. He asked me, “has that girl got enough to eat?”. He smiled and he listened and he fell asleep in his chair by the fire. As we were leaving he looked at us and said, “Isn’t love grand?”

A Crash Course in Decent TV Featuring Ladies who like Ladies - Part Two: Orange is the New Black

Unfortunately, the venn diagram of decent television and shows about ladies who like ladies is not a circle. This is a short series on what’s out there and why you should watch it.

Starring? GLAAD award winning, TIME cover gracing, great face having, tumblr darling Laverne CoxLaura Prepon from That 70’s Show. Natasha Lyonne from hit lesbian movie, But I’m a Cheerleader. Kate Mulgrew from Star Trek: Voyager (the best Star Trek!). Danielle Brooks from not much really but new talent is just the best right. Dascha Polanco from my hairspiration. Samira Wiley from my heart.

What’s It About? Based on a memoir by ex-convict Piper Kerman chronicling her year in a Women’s correctional facility. Piper (Taylor Schilling) is a privileged New Yorker from a wealthy background with an ugly fiancée (Jason Biggs). Ten years before the show starts, Piper fell in love with a super hot bad girl named Alex who happened to work for an international drug cartel (Laura Prepon) and was talked into a teeny tiny bit of money laundering. Almost a decade later the crime catches up with Piper and she’s sentenced to fifteen months in a low security prison.

To be perfectly honest with you, Piper Chapman is one of the single most annoying television protagonists since whatever it was Benedict Crabapple last starred in. She is just, the worst. Upon learning that she will be spending time in prison, she exclaims that it can’t be possible, she’s a, “nice, blonde lady”. She’s trying to set up a homemade soap company with her best friend. She gives impromptu lectures on Robert Frost poem’s in the prison rec room.

Why should I watch it? Fortunately, this is not just a show about Piper. Nice, blonde, easy on the eyes and obscenely marketable Piper Chapman is our window into Lichfield prison and into the lives of the other prisoners and having the chance to see their lives might just be one of the best thing to happen on a television show since Willow thought Tera’s zig zig parting was totally cute.

You need to watch this show, don’t get me wrong, it’s not perfect, but it’s one of the only shows out there that is actually brave, that tells the truth about our lives, that trusts it’s audience to be something more than some imaginary, eyes-tight-shut, uncaring demographic. Watch it because this show is about Sophia, a hair-stylist and trans woman, railing against the prison’s reduction of her hormone dosage. It’s about Janae, a star athlete who made all the wrong choices. It’s about ex heroin addict with Mummy issues Nicky, sweet/scary romantics Suzanne Warren and Lorna Morelle and beautiful, funny lesbian Poussey Washington. They’re black women, latina women, white women. They’re gay, straight, bisexual, queer women, cis women, trans women. They’re nuns and drug addicts; mothers and liars and cancer patients; women who steal and love.

But like, will it rip open my still beating heart? Yes. Yes it will. Not to worry though, amidst all the soul crushing realities of prison life and the miserable flashbacks, this is a very funny and even occasionally hopeful show.

But like, do they kiss? They all kiss, all of them. At my last count I think I got eight ladylady couples. That count might even be slightly short.

Where can I watch it? As of a couple of days ago, all 13 episodes of Season 2 are now available to stream instantly from Netflix. Season one is also available on Netflix, who created this show. If you don’t have a Netflix account you could watch it with someone who does, grab a months free trial or buy season one on DVD, but I really suggest you get a subscription - it’s well worth it and I am all up for supporting original programming this good.

I care. I’m here, caring, quietly, no silently caring and my love for you is real I swear it’s just I feel it, me, and I’m too aware of myself. I’m too present. I have to consider my feelings first, I’m the only real company I’ve ever had. I’m the only full girl I’ll ever know.

But that doesn’t mean it’s not you I think of best, warmest because honestly you are heat - a slow bake in the daylight, most of the time a hot bath. You are comfortable, you are comforting.

In the evening it burns and I know, you’re sorry when I can’t stand that sting, your skin on my skin but sometimes we’re too much.

First thing in the morning you’re the sun but so am I. First thing in the morning you know like fire it spits you out when it’s done I’m all that, you’re all that, too hot to hurt yourself. First thing in the morning I could eat a forest whole but I wouldn’t, I’d rather stay in bed.

I know it’s not as simple as, you gave me that. I know you’re no miracle. I know happiness is an accident.

I’m coming to terms with the fact that I won’t know you the way you know you.

But if I only have a glimpse of what you are it’s from a good angle. One you can’t get to. The light hits you just right, you laugh like an avalanche, you see that, do you hear yourself? Can I tell you, why you sound that way, about your face, your back? Can I try?

I’ll get as far as kind and interesting and beautiful and all the reasons I’d spend time with someone I wouldn’t sink a ship for, or from. I know why I like you, I know why I want to spend my time with you but as for the rest I can’t say. Have they invented a word for a broken, flying thing? Will another metaphor do? Can you get stuck in the sky?

The rest is a compulsion. I want you I want you in the same place that itch in my brain came from. Just to the left. That feels good. I chose you, I think. I chose you as much as I chose myself, which is to say, not at all.

And every day.

Today I went to a job interview where I had to give a ten minute presentation on any subject I liked and I chose the pros and pros of Netflix.

Usually the standard of the material read out at the writing group I go to every week is incredibly high, but two Monday’s ago we were forced to sit through some really dreadful 50 shades of grey inspired heteronormative bullshit, “erotic fiction”.

It was a total yawn fest, except the lady who’d written it kept pronouncing the word, “clitoris” like it was a new kind of dinosaur.


The fiesty redhead has left the building.

Feel like a character in a TV show who has a SIGNIFICANT HAIRCUT to SIGNIFY CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

#me#gpoy#photo#victory rolls#stealing kate nash's look I know#also bettie page
The fiesty redhead has left the building.
Feel like a character in a TV show who has a SIGNIFICANT HAIRCUT to SIGNIFY CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.
❝ I’ve always been different. I like books and animals better than people. Why, I don’t know. Maybe because books and animals are physically incapable of talking to me or having needs that supersede my own, so I can be in total control of them. Books can’t judge you or hurt you. They also can’t talk or eat or build a life with you, but whatever.

— Flaw Only A Protagonist Could Have by Mallory Ortberg

I want to be THE Queen. Don’t you know what THE means?

#Natalie Dormer#GoT#Margaery Tyrell
I want to be THE Queen. Don’t you know what THE means?

Margaery’s hair was huge and fabulous on her special day and no one can take that away from her.

The truth is I love some pretty terrible books you know, I’ve read Flowers in the Attic and it’s accompanying sequels and prequels many, many times and I am well aware of how problematic and ridiculous and pale next to what came before them and will come after them books like Harry Potter and The Hunger Games are. It even bothers me a little that Tolkein writes like he’s swallowed a copy of King and Country and The Oxford Book of English Verse and several Gentleman’s clubs. It bothers me but I love them all the same. I think a book can need to be and do a hundred things, but I can forgive it anything as long as it’s brave and not hateful, as long as it believes that one day someone will read it even if it’s not for them or, even if it is and it shows them something about themselves, maybe they didn’t want to see. As long as it does something. So I can’t stand you Jeffrey Archer or Stephanie Meyer or Nicholas Sparks, especially you. I can’t stand a book that tells me over and over what I’ve been told every day since the moment I opened my eyes, “This, this, this is the world, this is love, this is your life, this is what you want; I’m giving it to you, be grateful” No. Be brave.

Whoooooo’s going to see Queen of Everything Beyonce this Sunday with her beautiful girlfriend ME