#i want a dyke for president

[thedirectory]

Zoe Leonard

#Zoe Leonard #I want a dyke for president #poem

[manwalksintobar]

I Want a President  // Zoe Leonard

I want a dyke for president. I want a person // with aids for president and I want a fag for // vice president and I want someone with no // health insurance and I want someone who grew // up in a place where the earth is so saturated // with toxic waste that they didn't have a // choice about getting leukemia. I want a // president that had an abortion at sixteen and // I want a candidate who isn't the lesser of two // evils and I want a president who lost their // last lover to aids, who still sees that in // their eyes every time they lay down torest, // who held their lover in their arms and knew // they were dying. I want a president with no // airconditioning, a president who has stood on // line at the clinic, at the dmv, at the welfare // office and has been unemployed and layed off and // sexually harrassed and gaybashed and deported. // I want someone who has spent the night in the // tombs and had a cross burned on their lawn and // survived rape. I want someone who has been in // love and been hurt, who respects sex, who has // made mistakes and learned from them. I want a // Black woman for president. I want someone with // bad teeth and an attitude, someone who has // eaten that nasty hospital food, someone who // crossdresses and has done drugs and been in // therapy. I want someone who has committed // civil disobedience. And I want to know why this // isn't possible. I want to know why we started // learning somewhere down the line that a president // is always a clown: always a john and never // a hooker. Always a boss and never a worker, // always a liar, always a thief and never caught.

#poetry #Zoe Leonard #American poetry #queer poetry #poems of rage #poems of protest #I want a dyke for president #civil disobedience #American politics #socialism #HIV/AIDS #joy

[chaosmenu]

this post sucks lmfao

#op #‘i want more women working under a capitalist mode of wage labor’ Liberation from capitalism is not your enemy #also like wtf is this the 60s??? women ARE working #and yet misogyny still exists its just that women get to be exploited by their bosses as well as their husbands #+ the 'i want a dyke for president' poem is liberal schlock

[vulcandyke]

okay if one more mormon from my old ward emails me i'm going to turn evil and be mean to them

#they refuse to remove my info from their records #i got two emails in the last hour. one about relief society and one about the sacrament meeting #like bruh you do not want me there. i am a nonbinary leftist dyke you do not want me there. #maybe ill show up to the fast and testimony meeting and 'bear my testimony' by reading the whole ces letter out loud to them #i guess they mustve gotten new callings recently bc i blocked the other mormons that kept emailing me and that worked for a while #im so tired of these people and im usually nice to missionaries bc theyre just brainwashed kids most of the time like barely 18. #but these are grown ass people like relief society president + the ward secretary #so im kinda tempted to be a huge bitch. or to just keep sending a list of all the fucked up shit the church has done until they block me #well. anti mormon rant over. usually i don't get this annoyed about mormons until general conference but here we are

[girlnotjesus]

4x09 sam in the carhartt jacket. Ruby stabbing that demon in the throat. top 10 lesbian moments.

#i want a dyke (ruby) for president #dykenatural

[genderoutlaws]

Pinz - 4 - Dykez 😌

DM to purchase 💕 $2 each + 60¢ US postage or $1.40 global postage 💕 i accept cashapp/venmo 💕

ID: Eight pinback buttons on a lavender background.

Pin 1: “Femme Dyke” on hot pink background

Pin 2: “I Heart Lesbians” with a purple cartoon heart

Pin 3: “Bisexual Pride” on top of the pink, blue, and purple intersecting triangles known as Bi-Angles

Pin 4: “Butch Dyke” on hot pink background

Pin 5: “i want A DYKE 4 PRESIDENT” in handwritten letters

Pin 6: “Pissed off Transsexuals UNITE!” in handwritten letters

Pin 7: “Pissed off Transexuals UNITE!” in handwritten letters

Pin 8: “i want A DYKE 4 PRESIDENT” in handwritten letters, with stylistic dashes between each letter of the word dyke

#op #pins #my pins #yard sard #reclaimed slurs

[androgynealienfemme]

"Butch Code Limitations Feminism came to my rescue. I enrolled at UCLA for my junior year, which meant moving across town, leaving Pico, and leaving my buddies who worked for Pacific Telephone by day and drank by night. But my wardrobe of ties was now complete and I'd managed, with some Ivy League suspenders and a host of L.L. Bean blazers, to set my own butch style. I was working full-time in Watts and was finally within sight of my degree in social work. My career plans were clear. Like Cesar Chavez, I was going to save the ghetto. All I needed was a new bar and a new girl.

I found the former quickly enough by joining the softball team at the 7th Circle, a seedy little dive that despite its reputation as a "reds" (we're not talking politics) bar became my weekend home. Home was completed the night I met Gayle there and took her to my one-bedroom in the Fairfax district (later to become West Hollywood).

Doing the swagger thing at the Circle, I protected Gayle from unwaranted advances, threw a few punches to establish my territory, and refined the codes of Butch 301: honor your dyke buddies, it instructed, don't make it with a buddy's girl and expect to keep her friendship. Don't flaunt your one-night stands in your girlfriend's face -- make sure your friends don't either. Don't trust ki-kis (switch-hitters who flip-flopped from butch to femme depending on who they were trying to make). And above all, never let on if you find yourself sexually attracted to another butch.

The butch code was obviously a limited worldview. I grew bored. I didn't need a twelve-step program to see the ravages of alchol on the faces of my sage butch mentors. i didn't then agree with my generation about marching in the streets against our country's war (I'd spend the sixties in the cloister and in Pico; I didn't even know where Vietnam was). I had no political consciousness, but I was frustrated pissed off. I wanted being queer to mean more than spending my life in a bar.

On October 3, 1970 I walked into my first homosexual meeting. I hadn't heard about Stonewall, but I knew I was in the right place. A stone butch name Carole sat at the head table, and the whole room buzzed with talk about "religion and the homophile." Six months later, I succeeded and Carole as president of the Los Angeles chapter of the Daughters of Bilitis and opened the first center in the city. History had surged forward. By that time we talked about "gay rights."

One day I found a leaflet crammed in the mailbox of our DOB Center. It was from another organized group of gay girls, the Lesbian-Feminists. I'd heard about them through the dyke grapevine. No one knew what their name meant, they were reported to be "weirdos," and they were known to hang out at a center for women. This sounded ominous, but the leaflet gave an address and said, "All women welcome." I decided queer unity must prevail; I would visit their territory.

Feminism and the Butch Closet It was not love at first sight. Listening to my "sisters" that first night was one of the most disorienting experiences of my life. These women forbade use of the word girl. No one flirted with anyone. No one even asked my name, much less noticed my new wing tips. The Lesbian-Feminists did nothing but talk for five hours. And they weren't even discussing an outing or anything tangible. They were spouting some convoluted religious. It had to be religious, because they were all intensely righteous. I thought I knew about the religions of the world, but this was a new one. Apparently it was also very ancient, because one of them proclaimed their "matriarchy" was as "old as history itself."

By midnight I was convinced I'd received the wrong information. These girls weren't lesbians. There were no butches. Many of them looked vaguely feminine, in the hippie style of the day. A clunky sandal seemed to be their shoe of choice, but none of them wore makeup. I knew no bona fide femme would go out in public without makeup or heels.

Concluding that they were some kind of crackpot sect, I rose to leave. As I stomped across the wood floor, enjoying how the chains on my boots clanged through their meanderings, the one called "Radical Rita Right On" shouted at me, "What kind of lesbian are you?"

-“Butches, Lies, and Feminism" by Jeanne Cordova, The Persistent Desire, (edited by Joan Nestle) (1992)

#the persistent desire #Jeanne Cordova #lesbian #lesbianism #lesbian history #lesbian lit #gay rights history #lesbian feminism #lesbian feminist history #Butch lesbian #femme lesbian #butch lesbian history #lgbt #lgbtq+ #gay rights

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Me watching Red, White & Royal Blue with (2) straight male brothers and (3) straight male cousins (and one female cousin):

My brother: so the President is a woman?? That’s not realistic.

Me: it’s supposed to be idealistic.

My cousin: he said it’s not realistic.

Me: *laughing* oh, you’re saying a woman can’t be President?

My brother: *also laughing* yeah, I can’t get past that part obviously.

*later*

My cousin (Leo): the prime minister is aLSO a woman???

Me: Leo’s like “well, this has just gone TOO far.”

My brother: people are gay but women can’t be in power.

*later*

Alex: and I thought Alex Gabriel Claremont-Diaz was a mouthful.

Henry: … he is.

My brother: *leaning forward* oh my gOD.

*later*

Henry: *jumps into the water to avoid Alex expressing his feelings*

My brother: Henry is being really homophobic right now.

Me: that was a very gay culture thing to say, we love calling each other and bad things that happen to us homophobic.

My brother: oh good, I love being homophobic.

*later*

Alex: *says the word queer*

My brother: I thought that was a slur.

Me: it can be, it’s been reclaimed. You can say it, but I wouldn’t call someone it unless they told you they want to be called that.

My cousin: *coming back from the bathroom* WHAT WORD?

Me: queer.

My cousin: oh good, I thought you meant the f word.

My brother: YOU THOUGHT- No, you can’t say that one! *laughing*

Me: lol no, you can’t. Not that one or dyke.

My cousin: What does that mean?

Me: it's a slur for lesbians.

My brother: ….Melissa, can I have the d word pass?

Me: *laughing* you want to say dyke?

My brother: maybe!

*later*

My dad: *walking by* Adam, do you want to play some basketball?

My brother (Adam): *eyes not leaving the screen* maybe later, I have to finish this movie.

*later*

Henry and Alex: *romantic sex scene on screen*

My brother, for the tenth time this movie: I can’t bELIEVE these actors are straight.

#this was the highlight of my week it was one of the funniest events of my life #CAN I HAVE THE D WORD PASS #i was like i think you better not #and every second ellen was on screen those clowns were joking like “i don't know if i buy this” #so funny #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #red white and royal blue #red white & royal blue #melissa on rwrb #melissa og #melissa's bullshit #i mentioned how many of them there were but all of these quotes were leo and adam #maybe a drew or 2 #lila had a LOT of shit to say but it was all cute and not funny #we also did this with to all the boys i loved before the night before

[alittlegayhistoria]

Zoe Leonard - 'I Want a President' (1992)

“I want a dyke for president…” form the opening lines for the battalion of critical incisiveness and queer radical spirit that is Zoe Leonard’s 1992 piece ‘I Want a President’. Surging forth into the American public realm following the fatal negligence of Reagan’s administration during the AIDS epidemic and the next presidential election run-up, ‘I Want A President’ dared to interrogate the fundamental denial of marginalised bodies, minds and experiences in the political arena. Constituting a poignant position in the broader visual languages of AIDS activism and queer resistance, ‘I Want A President’ broke ground in inspiring and furthering a critical modality of hope. Its impassioned sentences at once demand empathy and humanity from authoritative figures. Leonard’s statements queer the metrics of power that vehemently deny those outside of cis-heteropatriarchal society by providing currency in promoting otherwise silenced voices, and reestablishing their lived experiences as ethically fundamental in the articulation and implementation of policies that account for real citizens.

Functioning as a key catalyst for ‘I Want A President’, Leonard was inspired by the dynamism of fellow lesbian poet and artist Eileen Myles’ presidential bid in the 1991-1992 presidential election, alongside Bill Clinton, George W. Bush and Ross Perot. Myles herself charged up by Bush’s lamentations of “the politically correct” (which implied an intended diminution of the voices of women, people of colour and LGBTQ+ critiquing hegemonic political assertions) in his commencement address galvanised an intellectual juncture that scrutinised the supposed impossibility of an openly female, openly queer president in the mainstream American consciousness. Acting in symbiosis to Myles’ work and presidential candidacy, Leonard was (and remains) a prominent and active member of queer activist collectives like Fierce Pussy, and her political praxis and astute artistic sensibilities informed the dissemination and distribution of ‘I Want A President’. Formerly intended to be a statement for an underground LGBTQ+ publication, the piece was printed as a Xerox document and circulated amongst Leonard’s friends, wider queer social circles and activist cohorts. It rapidly rumbled outwards into the wider public space, levying a challenge to the unfeeling political elite through progressive prose that illuminated the standpoints of those most denigrated in American ideology and dogma.

Spanning experiences of targeted violence, poverty, and disenfranchisement, the rhythmic structure of ‘I Want A President’ is arresting in its unflinching engagement with state-enabled trauma interwoven with empathic sentences expressing solidarity with those who continue to survive despite the odds. Grappling with legacies of lethal indifference in institutional engagement with the AIDS crisis, environmental damage bolstered by social inequalities, and sustained acts of gender-motivated attacks, Leonard’s calls and aspirations for a feeling, loving and reflexive leader remain tantamount in the contemporary era. The concluding lines “Always a boss and never a worker, always a liar, always a thief and never caught” is deeply evocative as a searing indictment against acts of blatant corruption and incitement of destructive community tensions by political elites able to evade culpability through immense social privileges. ‘I Want A President’ and its power lies in its calibration of empathy as a lightning rod for action, to make the yearning for difference not a mawkish instinct, but a place of generative resistance against political systems that seek to elicit apathy from sustained deprecation of those who fall outside of the power lines on the basis of race, gender, sexuality, class, ability and beyond.

‘I Want A President’ continues to have vibrant reverberations in contemporary political and queer counterculture. In 2016, it was erected under Manhattan’s High Line, a New York park built upon a disused elevated railway, proclaiming its moving and robust prose to a new public audience in the run-up to the 2016 election which devastatingly saw in the presidency of Donald Trump, reminding us all too much of what ‘I Want A President’ advocates against. Leonard’s powerful work continues to garner creative inspiration amongst queer artists, notably being read by queer rapper and artist Mykki Blanco, directed as part of a film by Adinah Dancyger in 2016, providing a reading that was passionate, imbued with immense political frustration that made its words all the more visceral in the face of Trump’s eventual inauguration. In 2018, the piece was reprinted with 100 copies and distributed in aid of the Treatment Action Group, a community-based think tank producing bold, advancing research into AIDS/HIV and other conditions in the pursuit of LGBTQ+, gender and racial liberation. The timelessness and transience of ‘I Want A President’ is made clear in its sustained relevance in the fluctuations in the national political milieu, demonstrating its significance as a queer cultural artefact that inspires fights for justice across multiple social intersections.

Leonard continues to enjoy a lustrous artistic career, and is now represented by the Hauser & Wirth gallery, where ‘I Want A President’ was celebrated and honoured for its cultural impact and staying power. Translating the piece’s deep insights and challenges against discriminatory political dominance in the British context, one can foster ‘I Want A President’ in expressing their disavowal of political acts devoid of empathy and basic human respect. Namely the state hatred of trans and genderqueer people in the name of political point-scoring, the loathsome class stigmatisation of current prime minister Rishi Sunak in his boasting of defunding what he deemed ‘deprived’ urban areas and the skyrocketing levels of financial precarity and homelessness under a fractious economic system. Leonard’s ruminations and desires in ‘I Want A President’ remain emblematic of the potency of queer activism and eternally vital, in demanding better representation, for politicians that care, that feel, that emote, that dare to think holistically beyond the sinister motivator of unbridled capitalistic power.

#lgbt #lgbt history #lgbt art #zoe leonard #eileen myles

[davidhockney]

norman fucking rockwell fr fr. Everyone else does a cute curtsy norman rockwell grabs you by the scalp and slams your face through the mirror. I guess I'm joking but idk I'm kinda pissed. Fuck everyone else. Ugh. Like the image obliterates the text *keeps talking, people start leaving* so the critic etc has no voice in this. The image is everything. I want an exhibition of norman rockwell and mark rothko. I want a dyke for president. Like whatever. All these people are are jpegs and metadata for most of you. For me too. So. Post-internet. And saturday evening post before that.

[helenascorpse]

(banner by @strawberryprism)

Walcum… To My Blog

twitter spotify goodreads ao3 paypal

call me Xen, Puppy, Vsevolod, Pansy, Ghoul or just G

He/They/Xe/It and She for close friends (i use any and all neopronouns) and Er/Es

19 years old (May 14)

slavic german (belarus/polish)

horny on main (filter #mdni)

aroace transexual faggot with objectum tendencies (fictosexual/romantic and aegosexual/romantic and proculsexual/romantic) and pluralgender

t4t pussy4pussy transsexual (reclaiming it for myself) 👍🏻

butch boy dyke girl fag nonbinary tranny who wants to eradicate cisgenders, girl fundashi, male fujoshi, girl yaoi and boy yuri enjoyer, professional tranny, professional NEET, president of the leathermouth fanclub, male misandrist, obese and happy with myself (fuck diets), insane about cannibalism and its eroticism, Youngblood Chronicles enjoyer

If you see me post something extremly concerning and unhinged i probably had a drug relapse. it happens

semispeaking disabled level 2 autistic / cripple punk who is tired of ableds (use tonetags like /s or /srs for me)

Host of a DID System (17 alters currently known)

Future bassist and drummer

DNI and tag list under read more

Other interests are: Kpop, TF2, EARLY! PATD, fanfiction, genshin impact :( ,making fun of Frank Iero in a gay way, Pierce The Veil, being feral over Bert from The Used, Basement era Gerard Way, being hrony about Leathermouth Frank, bullets era MCR and TTYG FOB, Andrew Hurley labret and tongue piercing, Pencey Prep, Arma Angelus, Punk music, Peterick posting, Grant Morrison, black metal (NOT THE RACIST/HORRIBLE ONES)

I do selfship with celebrities BUT i respect their families and spouses and know i will never have a chance with them its just a silly little faggot thing i do

DNI

waycest shipper (kys), brendon urie, msi or lindsey ballato fan/apologist, proshipper, general dni stuff (transphobe, racist, general bigot) call yourself punk without listening to the music. if ur under 16 don’t follow me oh my god or interact with my nsfw posts, self proclaimed “liberals”, anti sex work and prostitution, demonize drug addicts, demonize schizophrenia and other disorders, pro-israel, radqueers, associate with lakemichiganlolita, padawanryan and similar users, engage in CNC/ageplay/raceplay/fauxcest/things like that (they personally make me feel horrible and i don’t want anything to do with that)

how and what i tag:

stuff for my bestie: #kat tag

Frank: #frankie tag

Gerard: #gee way tag

Frank&Gee together: #pissnvinegar

Ray: #ray tag

Mikey: #mikey fucking way

mcr in general: #mai homosexual romance / #my homosexual romance

Andy: #andy tag

Joe: #joe schmoe tag

Patrick: #patricky stumpy

Pete: #peter schmeter tag

Pete&Patrick together: #half doomed and semi sweet

fob in general: #my 4 bfs

Anthony Green: #ant tony tag

LS Dunes: #bisexual dilf band

Bert Mccracken: #release the mccracken

Jepha: #babygirl jepharee

the used as a whole: #used not broken

gabe saporta: #gabey baby UNUSED UNTIL HE GETS A GRIP. FREE PALESTINE

travie mccoy: #travie mccoy

ryan ross: #victorian child laborer

laura jane grace: #my queen

geoff rickly: #british looking american

pencey prep: #pencey prep

arma angelus: #arma angelus

for my soul :): #kat tag

#intro post #mcr #fob #fall out boy #my chemical romance #like if read

[thevoidstaredback]

Things I think about on the [near] daily

Person (P) 1: You're late.

Person (P) 2: [ruffled, fixing their hair] Sorry, I was...doing things

*stomping getting closer* *door is thrown open*

Person (P) 3: [huffing] He pushed me down the fucking stairs!

P 2: Push is such a strong word. I prefer to say, "giving you a little nudge".

P 3: I'll give you a little nudge when I shove my foot up your ass!

P 2: Hey! Watch your fucking language in front of the president.

-----

*elevator doors close*

Iain: Where's the buttons?

Rob: Oh, no. They've installed voice-recognition technology in this lift. They have no buttons.

Iain: Voice-recognition technology? In a lift? In Scotland? You ever tried voice-recognition technology?

Rob: No

Iain: They don't do Scottish accents.

Rob: Eleven.

Voice: Could you please repeat that?

Iain: Eleven.

Rob: Eleven. Eleven.

Iain: Eleven.

Voice: Could you please repeat that?

Rob: EL-EV-EN

Iain: Who's idea was this? You need to try an American accent. E-leven. E-leven.

Rob: That sounds Irish, not American.

Iain: No it doesn't! ELEVEN.

Rob: Where in America is that - Dublin?

Voice: I'm sorry. Could you please repeat that?

Rob: Try an English accent. Elevin! Elevin!

Iain: You from the same part of England as Dick van Dyke?

Rob: Let's hear yours then, smartass.

Voice: Please speak slowly and clearly.

Rob: SMARTASS

Iain: E-lev-en.

Voice: I'm sorry. Could you please repeat that?

Iain: ELEVEN! If ya don't understand a lingo, away back to your own country!

Rob: Ooo, it's that talk now is it, away back to your own country?

Iain: Oh, don't start, Mr. Bleeding Heart. How can you be racist to a lift?

Voice: Please speak slowly and clearly.

Rob: Eleven. Eleven. Eleven. Eleven.

Iain: You're just saying it the same way!

Rob: And I'm going to keep saying it until it understands Scottish, alright?

Rob: Eleven. Eleven. Eleven. Eleven.

Iain: Oh, just take us anywhere, ya cow! Just open the doors!

Voice: This is a voice activated elevator. Please state which floor you would like to go to in a clear and calm manner.

Iain: Calm? Calm? Where's that coming from? Why's it telling people to be calm?

Rob: Because they knew they'd be selling this to Scottish people who'd be going off their nuts at it!

Voice: You have not selected a floor.

Rob: Aye, we have! Eleven!

Voice: If you would like to get out of the elevator without selecting a floor, simply say "Open the doors, please".

Iain: Please? Please? Suck my wully.

Rob: Maybe we should just say "please".

Iain: I'm not begging that for nothing.

Rob: Open the doors, please.

Iain: 'Please'! Pathetic.

Voice: Please remain calm.

Rob: Oh! My! God! You want until I get up there...just wait for it to speak...

Voice: You have not selected a floor.

Rob: Up yours, ya cow! If you don't let us through those doors, I'm gonna come to America, I'm gonna find whatever desperate actress gave you a voice, and it'll be the electric chair for ye!

Iain: Scotland, ya bastard!

Rob: Scotland!

Iain: SCOTLAND!

Rob: SCOOOOOTLAND!!

Iain: FREEDOM!!

Rob: FREEDOM!!

*elevator doors open with a ding*

Iain: ...Going up?

#random #rent free

[nityarawal]

11/15/2023

Oops I Shot My Wife

Morning Songs

Oops I Shot My Wife

Judge Ferguson

Admits

On Behalf Of All

The 20 Something 

Counties 

That Took Bribes

Oops I Shot 

My Wife

How Many Did

You Kill

As A Rotating

Judge

Oops I Shot My

Wife

We Know

Oops You Shouldn't

Have

But Thankyou For

Telling Us

Oops I Shot My Wife

I Know

Who Pushed Ivana

Down The Stairs

Was It Your Husband

Jarrod

Whose Intelligence

Name

To Clear

Trumpleberry

Or My Bu

Ivanka Asks

Why Should A Daughter

Be Put Before

Gag Orders

Dykes Want Her Head

But Moms

Want Her More

We're Not Hatin' On

Any Presidents Children

We're Not Grooming

Baes For Brits

Loved The Taylor Swift

160 IQ

Articles

Of Course

Celebrating Co-Writing

Songs

With Paul McCartney

Tea

Evermore

Eternal Peace

Yeah We All Want

The Transcendence

Light

Wispy

Eternal Love

Divine

Trinity

Glowing From Your 

Hearts

Mind Virus

Infected

But

3 Months To Live

Cleanse

It's "Hunger Games"

We All Got New

Physiologist

Covid

Penetrated

"Whose The Boss?"

#MeToo

Alyssa Milano Begs

Pretty Humble Moms

Stop Apartheid

Whose Side Are Y' On

The Jewish Attys Ask

Jap Kids

From Opulent Bathrooms

Whose Side Are You On

The Jewish Attys Ask

Whose Side Are You On

Is It Dad's

He Stole A Lot

Whose Side Are You On

Mystical Daughters

We So Rarely 

Hear You

Whose Side Are You 

On

Not Moms

Not Dad's

Kids

#4BillionMothersStrong 

Holding Strong

No Need To

Divide

And Conquer

Humanity

Is Not A Lab Rat

Gray

To Play With

To Throw Out

With The Bath Water

Humanity Is Not

A Lab Rat

And She's Scared

Humanity Is Not A 

Lab Rat

We're Not Ready

For Mars

Not All Of Us

Practicing Medicine

Peaceful Wariors

And That's OK

We Love You Anyways

Please Don't Let Them

Bomb Planet Earth

We Love You Anyways

Cognizantly

With Elon Swings

Of Consciousness

Some Might Never 

Understand

That's OK

I Love You Anyways

You're Perfect

Buddhas

Humanity 

Practicing Creatively

Sustaining Responsibly

Means Alot To Me

Please Don't Let Them

Bomb

Mother Earth

Her Trees

And Wonders

Please Don't Let Them

Bomb

California

We'll Talk To The Gay

Dad's

And Ask The Attorneys

Politely

One Last Time

To Release Our Children

And Dear Parents

From This Global

Apartheid

We Love You Anyways

But No Oil Must Be

Spent

Until You Can Have

Tea

With All The Parties

Bloodletting

Heaven Scent

Virtual Peace

Nothing Less

Rahu Goddesses

I Ate Up Any

#FreeBritney Tabloids

Hopeful

Walking In Circles

Stopped 

To Borrow Near 

Sighted Glasses

From Mrs Jackson -

Jones

Watch "Orange Is The New

Black,"

Observe 

Edging 

Conversations 

Laughing

Singing "Chicago"

Celebratin'

40+ Something Actresses

Knowing We All Had Hearts

Of Gold

To Be Heard Someday

Grateful Elon's

Brave Enough

To Tell His Story

Advertise Solid

Rocket-eering 

Grazia

Prego

Merci

Pilots

#Nitya4Eternity

Blessings

On All Air

Travel

Ganeshes

Intergalactically

Lakshmi

Mommies

Xo

Peace,

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal 

[fakeboitherottengirl]

Were you popular in high school?

More people liked me and wanted to be my friend than I realized but I didn't trust many people to get too close because I was messy and also because they were NT and bored me. People say they remember me as cool and funny (in a really mean way, i was a bully), I was president of the GSA, but I felt like an outcast, had a severe ED, and was regularly drinking during school. I lost my virginity to a girl with a heroin addiction who got me drunk and raped me in the woods and then denied it to everybody and tried to paint me as a predatory lesbian even though she literally fucked me while I was in and out of consciousness. There were a lot of rumors about me and I was known for being unpredictably violent because of an incident where i beat up a girl who stole my ipod and another time I flipped a kid in his desk for throwing spitballs at this special education boy. My social life was mostly the mall where there would be "scene kid friday" and thats where most of my friends were from, the people at my school were rich snobs. I was the only white girl that ate lunch at "the black table". But to give you a sense, I was only ever invited to one real party in high school and I tried to KMS with alcohol poisoning and crawled under a porch to die after my rapist was showing another girl more attention than he was showing me, then the next day at summer school (i wanted to get a better score on my state math test) kids were passing around a video of me covered in vomit begging the people who were pulling me out from under the porch to let me die and laughing about it. I also had a severe inferiority complex between my weight and my autism (which i saw as a side effect of my weight I was not diagnosed until college). I was VERY popular in collage because my best friend pretty much ran the acid supply in town but again it was mostly shallow friendships with NT people who I didn't care about. Ricky and my soulmate and one other girl are the only ones from HS who I still talk to on occasion because my friend group dumped me after I called out my rapist for raping my girlfriend/they all were against pot and I loved it so i found friends who smoked. I almost always had a boyfriend or girlfriend but I hated myself so I didn't trust that anybody could love me. I had fantasies of committing a mass shooting beuse I hated the rich NT kids and even brought my dad's handgun in to school once but never took it out of my backpack. I hated high school and felt like everybody hated me. I wanted to get revenge on everybody who I saw as happier or having an easier life than me. I didn't have much problems with the preppy kids they just ignored me but I was regularly getting into shit with the rich alt kids who could afford pre-made fashions while i was doing my clothing DIY. I also got jumped a lot on my walk to school for "being a dyke" by this group of boys who have all since fatally ODd. Half the school administration treated me like a golden gifted child, the other half like a troubled threat. I was on meds that made me block out all but this one memory of the 2nd semester of 11th grade. I slept a lot in class and got accused of being on heroin a couple of times. But yeah high school kind of sucked.

[girl4pay]

i want a dyke for president voice sunscreen should cost a nickel and only come in bottles of 12 ozs or more

[aclaywrites]

How to fall in love via Deneuve Magazine Personal Ads Circa 1993

❖ Go to your mailbox and see that your latest issue of Deneuve magazine has been delivered. It’s in a plain brown envelope, but you still take it all the way inside the house before you open it.

❖ Take a moment to gaze at the cover and appreciate the fact that it’s named after Catherine Deneuve in honor of her sex scene from The Hunger which awakened us all.

❖ Flip past the first few pages of ads. Do I want to fax away for a brochure about the chance to go on a Kenyan photo safari with the world’s first out lesbian commedienne? What about the Olivia Thanksgiving cruise?

❖ Enjoy the Editor’s Column about how our new President Clinton has pledged to make real progress for the LGBT community. Bask in the warm glow of happiness knowing that the gay dark ages are finally coming to a close.

❖ Chuckle at Alison Bechdel’s ad for the Feminist Bookstore Network and wish you had one of those stores near you.

❖ Keep up with the state of the lesbian nation via the letters to the editor. Aren’t the repressive laws being passed in Oregon and Colorado shocking? Goddess bless that Kentucky baby dyke having to dodge the KKK at her high school 🙁

❖ Read the wedding announcements and get all choked up, remembering why you’re here. Resist the urge to flip to the end and see if there’s anyone new from last month. Hope springs eternal!

❖ Oh, the 20th anniversary of Naiad Press! I love their stuff! Especially how all the covers look like they’re printed with ink that was on sale. I wonder if they have any more copies of that Lesbian Queries book from 1990???

❖ Audre Lorde sure is gonna give them hell at the march on Washington, eh?

❖ So many bookstores. So many books.

❖ An article about Safe Sex! Hell yes! Even though lesbians don’t get AIDS because we’re God’s chosen people, this will be fun to read about in theory! “After all, aren’t we told that lesbians and priests are in the lowest risk category?” lol people thought priests weren’t constantly having gay sex. Simpler times.

❖ An interview with Alison Bechdel! She’s so swoony.

❖ Articles about soap operas, speculation about Hilary Clinton, gossip about Madonna and Sandra Bernhard. And what about Whoopi Goldberg? And that Ellen lady? She’s been on Arsenio Hall acting all cagy about the men in her life. A list of women we wish were gay, including Joan Jett? Didn’t she sing Crimson and Clover without changing pronouns like waaaaay back in the 80s

❖ Music reviews: Sweet Honey in the Rock and Alix Dobkin! We’re almost to the ads…

❖ Labrys jewelry, freedom rings. C’mon, let’s get to the good stuff!

❖ Here we go! Classified ads– 30 words for $20! Queer personal finance, we buy used computers, a lesbian resort in New Hampshire.

❖ Personals at last! Is my woman here?

❖ Hey there’s that woman who has an ad every month expressing her ‘complete and sincere respect for’ women in military, fire, police, private security, corrections’. A gay male ad would say ‘Uniform fetish’ but apparently we’re too delicate.

❖ Bisexual boston babe ‘femalely handsome’ looking for someone who’s ‘nice to look at, not a feminist and not a bitch’. Next!

❖ Lonesome in Wyoming, Bisexual Bodybuilder, Softball is over, time to find someone warm for winter, Reubenesque Arkansas Buddhist…

❖ Find a girl who sounds promising– seems interesting and is not too far away. Spend a day or so composing a letter with a pen and piece of paper introducing yourself. If you don’t have a photo of yourself that you like, have a friend take one. Then finish the roll of film and bring it to the Fotomat and wait a day or so and then pick up the prints and hope you like one of them. Choose one anyway, and put it in the envelope with your letter.

❖ Get a stamp, hang it on the mailbox, never hear anything ever again.

❖ One month later, go to your mailbox and see that your copy of Deneuve has arrived.

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