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Obsessive Nerd

Human Rights, Psychology, Sex Education, Feminism, Culture, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Fandoms, Nerdfighteria, American Sign Language, Mental Illnesses, decreasing WorldSuck and surrounding myself with people made of awesome. 

ccoastal:

hanars:

luckykrys:

thecreach:

luckykrys:

"Anne Bonny and Mary Read were pirates, as renowned for their ruthlessness as for their gender, and during their short careers challenged the sailors’ adage that a woman’s presence on shipboard invites bad luck."
Sculpture by Erik Christianson.

I’m not entirely sure that the statue really needed to have a tit out.

How dare women try to have nipples.

Actually I’ve seen this before and I can tell you— it’s because these women were bad ass pirates and when they killed someone they’d expose one or both breasts so that when their victim died, (s)he knew that they were killed by a woman.

ACTUALLY Anne Bonny purposely wore loose fitting clothes and displayed her breasts openly at all times during battle - mainly because men were distracted by them, and she took pleasure in killing said men while they were too busy staring at her breasts. Mary Read dressed mainly as a man (after posing as her deceased brother, Mark, for the entirety of her childhood) and both ladies cross-dressed from time to time, hopping between ships. They were known as the ‘fierce hell cats’ due to their ferocious tempers, and were key elements to Captain ‘Calico Jack’ Rackham’s crew - they were the only two known female pirates in the Golden Age of Caribbean piracy. IN FACT, when the ship was captured by the British Navy, Anne and Mary were the ONLY TWO pirates who fought while the males of the crew hid - they were all tried to be hung as pirates but Bonny and Read were both pregnant and were pardoned.
Calico Jack was a lover to Bonny, and as he was to be hung, Bonny’s final words to him were, “Had you fought like a man, you need not be hung like a dog.” Bonny and Read were possibly two of the most badass fucking pirates and they were FEMALE. The more you know. 

ccoastal:

hanars:

luckykrys:

thecreach:

luckykrys:

"Anne Bonny and Mary Read were pirates, as renowned for their ruthlessness as for their gender, and during their short careers challenged the sailors’ adage that a woman’s presence on shipboard invites bad luck."

Sculpture by Erik Christianson.

I’m not entirely sure that the statue really needed to have a tit out.

How dare women try to have nipples.

Actually I’ve seen this before and I can tell you— it’s because these women were bad ass pirates and when they killed someone they’d expose one or both breasts so that when their victim died, (s)he knew that they were killed by a woman.

ACTUALLY Anne Bonny purposely wore loose fitting clothes and displayed her breasts openly at all times during battle - mainly because men were distracted by them, and she took pleasure in killing said men while they were too busy staring at her breasts. Mary Read dressed mainly as a man (after posing as her deceased brother, Mark, for the entirety of her childhood) and both ladies cross-dressed from time to time, hopping between ships. They were known as the ‘fierce hell cats’ due to their ferocious tempers, and were key elements to Captain ‘Calico Jack’ Rackham’s crew - they were the only two known female pirates in the Golden Age of Caribbean piracy. IN FACT, when the ship was captured by the British Navy, Anne and Mary were the ONLY TWO pirates who fought while the males of the crew hid - they were all tried to be hung as pirates but Bonny and Read were both pregnant and were pardoned.

Calico Jack was a lover to Bonny, and as he was to be hung, Bonny’s final words to him were, “Had you fought like a man, you need not be hung like a dog.” Bonny and Read were possibly two of the most badass fucking pirates and they were FEMALE. The more you know. 

(via disneydreamscometrue)

One must look inside of who they really are
to understand what they are capable of.
Some might be leaders,
followers or maybe the teachers. 


As long as you always remember 
who you truly are. 
And stick to your morals, 
anything (even your deepest desire), 
is possible. 
Because nothing is impossible.
As long as you really want it, 
you will fight for it,
and as long as you fight, 
all is not lost.

bluesey:

The SCAR Project: Breast Cancer Is Not A Pink Ribbon

The SCAR Project is a series of large-scale portraits of young breast cancer survivors shot by fashion photographer David Jay. Primarily an awareness raising campaign, The SCAR Project puts a raw, unflinching face on early onset breast cancer while paying tribute to the courage and spirit of so many brave young women.

Dedicated to the more than 10,000 women under the age of 40 who will be diagnosed this year alone, The SCAR Project is an exercise in awareness, hope, reflection and healing.

Read more here

(via queenmerbabe)

Cancer. Just a word, right? It is until it creeps slowly into your life, prepared to take control of your life. I remember vividly, when it started showing up in my life; the first time was when my grandparents had either lung, breast or skin cancer. Watching them die a little more each day was earth shattering enough, but the first time the “C” word appears and is pointing directly at you, well that’s a day no one can ever forget. 
I remember it like it was yesterday. Mom asked what was on my neck. I remember thinking what in the world is she talking about. Sure I had a “little” bump on my neck, but that’s always been there, thinking what was the big deal? Mom being, well…Mom, she panicked and rushed to the nearest phone to call the doctor for an appointment. Still not understanding what the big deal was, I did not think much of it, until the next week when the appointment came. The doctor’s cold hands immediately went to my neck; he said so bluntly that I needed to be tested to see if it was cancer. Let’s freeze for a second: Up until this point cancer to me was just another way to say you were dying. But when someone like a doctor says something so alarming, the word cancer is no longer a word; it was almost as bad as any other “bad word.” Let’s just say I did not take the news too well.

Okay, so I did not take the news at all! I was completely in shock. The first thought was “I do NOT like this doctor.” Then came the “Okay Katie, it’s no big deal; it is only cancer; it can only kill you.” However, the last thought was, “Tested? That means blood, which means needles; nope, not doing it.” To understand this fear that I have, you have to be made aware that still to this day I have to be on heavy medication even to get near the needles. 

Getting pulled out of my thoughts, when the nurse walked through the door and saying very nicely that I needed to follow her. Walking with my head down, in shame of my fear and knowing what was coming next, I was already in tears before I was even seated in those awful chairs. I remember watching the needle coming closer and closer, Mom yelling for me to close my eyes, but before it touched my skin, I closed my eyes tightly. It seemed like the blood would never come. I knew if I looked in a mirror, my face would be as pale as snow. When the torture was finally done, I asked the doctor, wishing for the answer to be the one less painful, if that was all I had to do. I remember his face looking down at me, with sorrow, and he said I still needed to do a catscan. I looked to the ground and walked back, while Mom was scheduling an appointment for that. Those three months waiting for that appointment, were pure agony, waiting for the unknown, still not understanding what exactly what a “catscan” was. 

I remember that day when I was waiting in that waiting room for two hours to go back to do this thing called a catscan- the whole time hoping that it was going to be painless. A man called my name and took me to the back, gave me this gown, which looked more like a cloth, and told me to change into that. Still not comprehending what is going on, I did so. He then took me to this room where Mom is sitting and filling out paperwork. He looked at me and handed me a pen and told me that I had to sign a document saying something about IV’s. Freeze for a second: I know what IV’s are; they consist of a needle and a tube staying in my arm., um…NEEDLE!

I remember giving this man the blankest of stares, wishing he was joking. I slowly signed my name, starting to tear up again. While he put the IV in me, I stared at the catscan. I can still vividly remember that it was quite large with a big hole in the center that had a table. The whole time I was staring all I heard coming from the man was blah, blah, you’re going to taste nickel in your mouth, blah, blah, lay still. I do not even remember lying down. I looked up and saw nothing but blurs, it turned out he had taken off my glasses. I remember those moments while I was just lying there, tasting that horrid taste of nickel, thinking of the “what if” I really did have cancer. Would my friends and family miss me? What would I be leaving behind? What if I did not want to die yet; did I have a choice? Mom pulled me out of my stupid thoughts by handing my glasses back to me. I remember driving home, praying to whatever God that would listen, praying more then I ever have before, hoping that it was a fluke and I do not have the “C” word.

One of the Gods heard me that day because walking to the answering machine two weeks later, there was the voice of the doctor saying there is some kind of mass on my neck, but not cancer and asked if we could call him back. I remember sitting in the chair, looking at the machine that just told me that I had a second chance. Later that night Mom called the doctor, and he told us the not so good news. He said that if the tumor ever grows larger, moves or anything else abnormal like bruises started showing up unexplained, I would need to come back in for more test. What he means is that I was out of the woods that time, but that someday that lump could become the “C” word When the “C” word comes up into conversations I start panicking, and my hand finds it’s way to my neck. I will often walk out of the room, or just sit there extremely quite, while my mind is racing of the “what if’s.” This fear will be with me the rest of my life, because knowing that this tumor at anytime can become cancerous, is a horrid thought, that can scare anyone.. I am filled with fear every time I find a bruise, and I cannot remember where I got it from. I am filled with fear every time I look at my neck, thinking my eyes are playing tricks on me, making sure it did not grow. I am filled with memories of my eighth grade year, waiting to hear if my, “What If’s” would become my life.

somehowfurious:

kissing-monsters:

apiphile:

sexxxisbeautiful:

pizzagrrrl:

Peggielene Bartels, A.K.A. King Peggy, is currently the King of Otuam, Ghana. She was chosen to be one of only three female kings in Ghana, and when she discovered that male chauvinists wanted her to only be a figurehead, she said: “They were treating me like I am a second-class citizen because I am a woman. I said, ‘Hell no, you’re not going to do this to a woman!’” When she encountered corruption and the threat of embezzlement to the royal funds, she declared “I’m going to squeeze their balls so hard their eyes pop!”
King Peggy has maintained her work in Ghana’s embassy in Washington, D.C. while making education affordable in Otuam, installing borehead wells to produce clean drinking water, enforcing incarceration laws to deal with domestic violence, replenishing the royal coffers by taxing Otuam’s fishing industry to improve life in the village, and appointing three women to her council.
“Nobody should tell you, ‘You’re a woman, you can’t do it,’” she insists. “You can do it. Be ready to accept it when the calling comes.”
Quoted from the Spring/Summer 2012 issue of Ms. Magazine.

What a beautiful badass woman.

King Peggy has been on my blog before but this is my goddamn blog and I will have King Peggy on here twice if I want.

MORE FEMALE KINGS.

Always reblog King Peggy, who is on my dash far less than she should be. Did you know she has written a book about her life? It is great, and you should all get right on that if you haven’t already.

somehowfurious:

kissing-monsters:

apiphile:

sexxxisbeautiful:

pizzagrrrl:

Peggielene Bartels, A.K.A. King Peggy, is currently the King of Otuam, Ghana. She was chosen to be one of only three female kings in Ghana, and when she discovered that male chauvinists wanted her to only be a figurehead, she said: “They were treating me like I am a second-class citizen because I am a woman. I said, ‘Hell no, you’re not going to do this to a woman!’” When she encountered corruption and the threat of embezzlement to the royal funds, she declared “I’m going to squeeze their balls so hard their eyes pop!”

King Peggy has maintained her work in Ghana’s embassy in Washington, D.C. while making education affordable in Otuam, installing borehead wells to produce clean drinking water, enforcing incarceration laws to deal with domestic violence, replenishing the royal coffers by taxing Otuam’s fishing industry to improve life in the village, and appointing three women to her council.

“Nobody should tell you, ‘You’re a woman, you can’t do it,’” she insists. “You can do it. Be ready to accept it when the calling comes.”

Quoted from the Spring/Summer 2012 issue of Ms. Magazine.

What a beautiful badass woman.

King Peggy has been on my blog before but this is my goddamn blog and I will have King Peggy on here twice if I want.

MORE FEMALE KINGS.

Always reblog King Peggy, who is on my dash far less than she should be. Did you know she has written a book about her life? It is great, and you should all get right on that if you haven’t already.

(via lipstick-feminists)

Dear Life,


With life, comes death. Hate- Love. As what is and what is not. What goes up, must come down. One day they will die, as we all will die. When one heart stops beating, another will take their first breath of air. As always; with death, comes life. 

It is not acceptable, to just live like a zombie and rush through life. We have to truly LIVE. We have to walk, and rejoice in our observation of what truly is beauty. Nothing is ever the same. Be silent, and listen. Really listen to what humanity and nature is expressing. Because nothing is as important as the wisdom and understanding; of others- who have lived before us. 

"There is a time to be born, and a time to die; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance; a time to gain, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace." (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

This verse alone is one of the most important things we will ever need to know, about the life we all lead. When we feel like breaking down, that is the time when we hold our heads up and march right thru what life is throwing at us. Because even the best fall down sometimes. When life is showing us the bad, we must smile and laugh for all the good that goes unnoticed. When they die-do not mourn, dance! And be merry for the life they have lived. When we hate, we lose a chance to love; and living in the world we do, we need every ounce of love we can get. 

With hope; doubt will follow. At times life seems so cruel, and will take our last and only hope. But hope, like a Phoenix, waits to be re-born from its ashes. Like a Phoenix, hope, will be our light- our flame in the darkness. Like a Phoenix’s tears, hope will heal all wounds. Like a Phoenix, hope will find us. 

“As water reflects a face, so a man’s heart reflects the man.” Look at our reflection and what do we see. The lips, where our words flee from, do they speak with honesty? The eyes; our looking glass. They are the window to our souls. Do they see more then they let on, not speaking up with those lips- which speaks with truth? Do they see the small individual things? Our hands, do they protect and love those we hold? Our legs, do they walk with haste? Or do they glide where life takes them? Our stomach, do they feed until full, or feed until satisfied, and feed the rest to the one’s who have nothing? Promise that the following will never be forgotten; a good name is better than fine perfume. 

Love,
Death

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