![Oh wait, already done. :]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4wyq9IuiA1r29t5yo1_500.png)
I’m tired, bone tired, of ‘whipped’. The insidious word ‘whipped’. We punish our boys and guys and men for being hopeless, for being vulnerable, for following a lead. We call them whipped when they watch 27 Dresses with a girlfriend, whipped when they let their wives decide and drive, whipped when they hold her books and the door and her hand. That’s not whipped. Whipped is spending a day smoothing the bed and setting the table and painting on a smile and entertaining his business associates. But we don’t call it that, we call that the perfect woman.
http://theernoflife.tumblr.com/post/17355732295/filed-under-dont-read-im-tired-to-death-of (via zaynsheadband)
http://theernoflife.tumblr.com/post/17355732295/filed-under-dont-read-im-tired-to-death-of (via zaynsheadband)(Source: plaintively)
via heydahlface
my two favorite things in one. :]
- Holden Caulfield: Hey I just met you
- Holden Caulfield: and this is crazy
- Holden Caulfield: but anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be.
- Holden Caulfield: so don't even call me, you're a phony
via bustaposee
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