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22 Aug
There’s a stereotype that black people are lazy. I don’t know if that’s true, but I know white people went all the way to Africa to get out of doing work.

Lance Crouther

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(via askinnyblackman)

21 Aug unimpressedcats:

i just …. can’t … quite … reach … 

unimpressedcats:

i just …. can’t … quite … reach … 

(Source: pleatedjeans)

20 Aug

(Source: pleasestopbeingsad)

19 Aug

glowfoxartworks:

walkingfoxiest:

a post where I explain with images how foxes are the best thing ever, and how if you disagree you are obviously wrong

hhhng the attached pics ;u;

(Source: )

18 Aug

babygoatsandfriends:

breebade:

A few years ago at my school there was a senior prank where two goats were released in the school and were labeled “1” and “3”. The teachers and administrators spent four hours trying to find goat “2”.

thats hilarious

18 Aug ppyajunebug:

thelethifoldwitch:

Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure –
But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.
Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.
Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.
Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured – by their classmates –for having been born.
Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle – but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)
Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.
Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again – the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone – the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?
Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.
Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.
Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes – in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.
Imagine the ghosts.
Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield – it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)
Imagine the students unable to trust each other – everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.
Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.
Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.
Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.
Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.
Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.
Imagine the students who leave the wixen world – hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.
Imagine the students who never use magic again.
(Image source.)
(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)

Reblogging this kickass post by the equally kickass
lavenderpatil
because everyone should read it

ppyajunebug:

thelethifoldwitch:

Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure

But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.

Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.

Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.

Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured by their classmates for having been born.

Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)

Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.

Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?

Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.

Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.

Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.

Imagine the ghosts.

Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)

Imagine the students unable to trust each other everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.

Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.

Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.

Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.

Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.

Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.

Imagine the students who leave the wixen world hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.

Imagine the students who never use magic again.

(Image source.)

(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)

Reblogging this kickass post by the equally kickass
lavenderpatil
because everyone should read it
18 Aug

Anonymous said: these anons are like, "can i be racist in the rain? can i be racist on a train? can i be racist in a box? can i be racist with a fox?"

lackadaisicallexicon:

thesoftghetto:

surrealexperiences:

cyb3ranthy:

incogneeco:

whiteoppression:

famphic:

anthotny:

postracialcomments:

lmfaoooooooooooooo Yes!

Lmao!
How can I be racist if I work with blacks
How can I be racist if one sold me slacks
I’m not racist I’m just like you. I’m best friends with a black or two.

i’m not racist, you see, it’s just a preference
i love eastern culture and its women’s deference
the west lost its way with no room for clemency
If I love Asian women, how’s that white supremacy?

i’m not a racist, i can’t be, you see
my great grandma’s grandma was part cherokee
plus one time i got called “cracker” to my face
don’t we all bleed red? i don’t even see race…

I’m not racist, blacks just need to stop complaining
Living in the past and white people blaming
I work hard, no handouts for every little fraction
If white privilege isn’t fair, then how is affirmative action?

I’m not racist man, I’m just right-wing
Plus reverse-racism is totally a thing
It’s not about power check the definition
Slavery wasn’t an evil thing, just asset acquisition.

How come I can’t say “nigga”, it just means brotha!
And ain’t I a brotha from anotha motha?
I didn’t use the ‘er’- so its a total difference.
You blacks give good white people such hindrance :(

'We can't handle spicy foods' ? Your jokes make me sad

See, if I joked and called you a “nigger”, you’ll be mad

You black people think we are always out here to ruin your day

Look, 'not all white people', …mmkay?

I can say “nigga” ‘cause of freedom of speech

And y’all always forget what MLK preached!

White privilege ain’t real ‘cause my life is hard

If you want to stop racists, don’t play the race card

18 Aug

magicalnaturetour:

An adorable baby koala is seen enjoying a snooze after a traumatic start to life. The baby koala, nicknamed “Blondie Bumstead”, is being cared for by a volunteer from the Ipswich Koala protection society in Queensland after her mother was killed by a dog. Blondie, who was named for her light fur, was given just a 50-50 chance of pulling through after the attack. But after a course of antibiotics and some tender loving car from volunteer Marilyn Spletter she has now been given a clean bill of health. According to Marilyn she has hand-reared around 40 baby koalas but says that Blondie, who will be released back into the wild after 15 months, is one of her favourites. She said: “She’s got a little character all of her own and she knows what she wants and what she doesn’t. When she’s stressed I kiss her on the nose or I rub my nose on hers and it relaxes her”. (Photo by Jamie Hanson/Newspix/REX Features)

18 Aug

princeowl:

teabrittle:

princeowl:

why would you ever idolize cops when firefighters exist

yeah seriously have you ever heard of “corrupt firefighter” 

what would a ‘corrupt firefighter’ even be. he put out that fire with a little TOO much water. he was a little rough with the cat he rescued from a tree for a little old lady

18 Aug nonstaff:

petition to make this the new loading gif

nonstaff:

petition to make this the new loading gif

(Source: catleecious)