“My name is Dean Winchester. I am an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women. And I did not kill anyone."
I'm Liv. I'm 27. I live in the UK.
This used to be my personal blog until I discovered Supernatural.
Now it is a Dean Winchester blog and my life is over.
I track the tag #helpdeanwinchester!
where are you getting your stats? what source of information brought you to this conclusion? none I assume, but I would love for you to prove me wrong.
It’s literally a hyper link to the study
“Chamberlain and his team found that although overall divorce rates of couples with one seriously ill spouse were comparable to the general divorce rate in the US, there was a marked difference depending on which partner had received the diagnosis. In cases where the husband became seriously ill, divorce rates were actually far lower than average at three per cent. However, a staggering 21 per cent of wives who had been diagnosed with serious illness ended up separated or divorced within the same time frame.
In fact, Chamberlain’s study revealed that in ninety per cent of post-diagnosis divorce cases, the wife was the sick party. The researchers suggested that a possible explanation for this striking difference could be that men find it harder to take on a care-giving role.”
WHAT THE FUCK!?!? this is goddamn horrifying.
“Find it harder to take on a care-giving role.”
Bullshit.
They don’t want the burden of a sick wife who won’t be taking care of them. Like good ‘ol “sanctity of marriage” Newt Gingrich divorcing his wife who developed cancer.
I always want to point out that not abandoning your wife is the lowest possible bar, and husbands who don’t do it are unfortunately not necessarily supportive beyond this bare minimum—I once read a blog article by a guy who volunteered at a breast cancer resource centre (he was their first male volunteer, ever) and who wrote, about the boutique where the women tried on wigs:
Many clients came in with female family members or friends. These clients only came in with female family members or friends. During my two years at the center, I never once saw a client go into the boutique with a husband or male relative. I asked the staff about it. One manager said, “Same as the volunteers: guys won’t go near the wigs. Guys are wimps.” Sometimes a woman would come in for a wig… nervous, uncomfortable…and she’d get help from me or the staff, total strangers… and you could see her husband out in the parking lot… sitting in the car, listening to the radio; they couldn’t even come inside.
I’m also reminded of that study on organ donation rates across Europe, that found that among married hetero couples, 36% of women who could donate a kidney to their husband did so, while only 6.5% of clinically suitable men donate a kidney to their wives.
The plan for the 17th, when the adult content ban comes in, is to protest.
To do that, we are making as much noise either side of the 17th as possible, and using the site as normal.
On the 17th, dead silence.
People are saying log off but what they really mean is don’t open the site or the app.
But, on the 17th make as much noise as possible on every other platform. Tweet about it and post on facebook and instagram and everywhere else.
What this does is causes a massive dip in ad revenue for one single day. That does not make staff think ‘oh everyone’s gone let’s shut down.’ What it actually makes them think is ‘oh shit people aren’t happy and if people don’t keep using our site we’re out of money and out of jobs.’
A boycott reminds a company that the users (consumers) have the power to make their site (business) worthless with one single coordinated decision.
If you want to join in, here’s what to do:
Do:
Close all open instances of the app and site on all your devices before the 17th
Make posts before and after the 17th on tumblr and other platforms, talking about why this ban is bad
Make posts on other sites during the 17th. Flood the official tumblr staff twitter and facebook with your anger and your opinion
Come back on the 18th and check in
Don’t:
Delete the app from your phone (this doesn’t affect their revenue and since it’s off the store at the moment it’ll be hard to get back)
Delete your account. I mean you can if you want to, but if you keep your account and don’t use it you’re saying to staff that there’s still time to save it. If you delete it’s hard work to come back.
Open the app or website (including specific blogs)
Make any posts (turn down/off your queue and make sure nothing is scheduled)
Go quiet elsewhere. Make it clear that this is just about tumblr, not a mass move away from all social media.
Remember: the execs don’t care about anything but money. Shutting down the site means there’s $0 further income from it. That’s their last possible course of action. If we make it clear we’re not happy, they’ll have to do something or we can do more and more until it becomes too expensive.
Protests take commitment. They’re a defiant action against a business that is doing something wrong. They will try to scare you into not participating, because they’re scared. We hold all the power here, sometimes the execs just need to be reminded of that.
It probably is worth a try.
Tumblr doesn’t consider us its consumers or customers, since we don’t pay for it, but what it does consider us to be are its free content creators who attract more traffic and therefore attract their true customer base, the advertisers.
I doubt anything will change but, again, it is totally worth a try. One little day ignoring tumblr won’t hurt.
Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.
At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.
At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.
“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.
The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.
I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.
I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.
I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht.
agent: this is area 51, where the aliens live me: cool agent: and over there is area 69, where the aliens… uh… me: what agent: …. me: what do they do there
man: has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?
me: oh no sir, today is my first day out of doors and papà forbade mirrors in the house lest we fall victim to vanity
