“You fight like a girl.”
Reblogging because I’m sure the comic readers out there could add some more.
i can’t hear you
over the sound
of me crushing my enemies
so here you go
somehow forgot the baddest bitch of them all
Yeah, how did you forget Cassandra Cain?
Just a reminder, ladies, that you may graduate from Wellesley, then Yale Law School, become one of the most powerful and influential lawyers in the country, then the First Lady of the United States, then a U.S. Senator from New York, come this close to being the Democratic nominee for president yourself, and ultimately serve as the Secretary of State, but you’ll always be a woman — an emotional, unhinged, woman.
No one is a slut. “Slut” is a made-up word to keep women from having as much fun as men. A person who enjoys sex is just a person and a person who is a virgin is also just a person and everyone should lay off each other’s sex lives. Retire the word “slut” please.
The Snooty Fox does not tolerate your nonsense.
Love. I hope this was for something totally outrageous.
I. Am. Not. Good. At. It.
Alie arrived at our 1st-grade classroom wearing a sweatshirt with a hood. I asked her to take off her hood, and she refused. I thought she was just being difficult and ignored it. After breakfast we got in line for art, and I noticed that she still had not removed her hood. When we arrived at the art room, I said: “Allie, I’m not playing. It’s time for art. The rule is no hoods or hats in school.”
She looked up with tears in her eyes and I realized there was something wrong. Her classmates went into the art room and we moved to the art storage area so her classmates wouldn’t hear our conversation. I softened my tone and asked her if she’d like to tell me what was wrong.
“My ponytail,” she cried.
“Can I see?” I asked.
She nodded and pulled down her hood. Allie’s braids had come undone overnight and there hadn’t been time to redo them in the morning, so they had to be put back in a ponytail. It was high up on the back of her head like those of many girls in our class, but I could see that to Allie it just felt wrong. With Allie’s permission, I took the elastic out and re-braided her hair so it could hang down.
“How’s that?” I asked.
She smiled. “Good,” she said and skipped off to join her friends in art.
‘Why Do You Look Like a Boy?’
This year, Brendan and I have started a new tradition. We have small slips are paper and a jar of pens in the living room, under a small wire we display photos on. Instead of photos, for the month of November, we have been writing what we are thankful for, and hanging those. They range from “I’m thankful for chicken soup on cold days.” to thankfulness for one another.
I’m excited as the years go by, we will have a record to look back on, and remind us for the many reasons we have to be thankful.
Image from Rifle Paper Co.