…was started by freed slaves
…began on May 1, 1865 in Charleston, SC
…who gave 257 Union soldiers proper burial, and consecrated it with a parade of 10,000 people
…was initially called Decoration Day
A good friend of mine in SC still calls it “Decoration Day” because that’s what his family always said. Now I know why.
I think these are the best kinds of relationships, and even friendships. When you just want to be around each other, go exploring, live. I think people are so focused on proving they’re right for each other, instead of just being right for each other.
(via it-takes-two-to-tangooo)
Jane’s coffee mug
I feel like one day a woman is going to be in my house, at my kitchen table, drinking from this mug and referring to me.
(via rizzlesarmy)
(via it-takes-two-to-tangooo)
(via it-takes-two-to-tangooo)
Why you want one: It’s kind of intoxicating to be around someone this smart and serious. It’s really sexy for as long as you can go without getting compliments/any affirmation that they like you back.
Spoiler Alert: Oblivious misers.
Where to find one: Home alone, reading something really interesting, generally not giving a fuck.
Pickup technique: Figure out what they’re interested in and make insightful comments. Don’t expect any affirmation or acknowledgment that they heard you. — Myers-Briggs Dating Field Guide
People who think that no one uses welfare/food stamps to actually buy things they need can tell that to my hungry 11 year old self who wouldn’t have had decent lunches or meat (at all) without government assistance.
Oh, and who might have gone hungry if there had been drug testing involved. Thanks. I’m glad that you know more about my life than I do! If only I had realized sooner that my mom wasn’t really buying food with that money! I mean, I don’t know what she was doing with it, since our lives were fucking awful at that point and we had a grand total of zero luxuries (I shared a room with my mom! In the basement of my grandma’s condo! I did laundry for the whole house to earn enough dimes to buy myself sodas and candy!), but really, please, enlighten me.
Also, as a child of a drug addict, this law fucking terrifies me. The idea that some kid who is trying to cope with having an addict for a parent (not always easy) also might go hungry or without new clothes or whatnot because some privileged assholes think poor people have to be suffering saints to qualify for help literally makes me cry to think about.
—(via stfuconservatives)
The stories we could share, grew up in Brooklyn my mom was one of those welfare queens that evil fuck Reagan was talking abt (minus the cadillac and crown). The joyous stories of standing in lunch lines at the homeless shelter and digging thru garbage for bottles to recycle. Less than 10 years old.
(via adeyami)
(via bookishboi)
