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I don't wear real pants

@youseemtothinkimstraight / youseemtothinkimstraight.tumblr.com

You can call me Krista.
19/Canada/She/Her/They
People seem to think I'm straight so I made a blog
Now I post gay things to this blog and it's a good time.
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I NEED HELP FOR MY SISTER AND HER SON

My name is Monica. And this is my sister Wiola and her six years old son Jakub.

Two months ago my sister’s husband left with another woman and has move to another country. We don’t know where excacly. He doesn’t pay for anything, he doesn’t send any money. He is a piece of shit. He was homophobic towards me (I’m a lesbian), he cheated on her when she was pregnant. He was always working, not caring about his son. But my sister stayed with him because of the child. Also she had to leave the place they live for the last 9 years because it was bought by his parents and they told her to move out.

She is back now in our parents home where I sill live too. There’s only two small rooms in the house, kitchen and one bathroom. All of this for 5 people now. This is our house:

She wants to find a place to rent because right now she is stuck wth Jakub with me in my small room. She is a kindergarden teacher and her salary is only 900zł. And her son is in the first grade and he doesn’t even have a place to do his homework. My father is an alcoholic with violent tendencies so it’s not good for my nephew to still live here. He is very sensitive and cry realy easly and he has developed eating disorder in the past months. She is going to take legal action against her husband but she needs money for that too. Her lawyer told her that maybe there’s a chance to take the house back. Or at least money for it. I don’t know how else to help her because I’m unemployed at this moment. Please we can’t live like that for much longer.

Even a dollar makes a difference. And if you are not able to donate, please reblog.

RIGHT NOW SHE NEEDS 2,500$ AND WE RAISED 1,944$. FOR OVER A MONTH NO ONE DONATE ANYTHING.

You can use any currency you want: YOURCARING OR PAYPAL: monicakil@mail.com

UPDATE ON SATURDAY MARCH 10:

This is the fifth time I’m making new post to try and raise the money. The only thing I got is 25$ and an email calling me and my family “white trash”. I don’t know how else to ask. I know it’s not about sick kid or someone who lost his home in a fire. But my sister really needs help and she counts on me. So please if you have anything, send it via paypal: monicakil@mail.com or  YOURCARING.

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People often say they hope their deceased pet dog is chasing squirrels in doggy heaven… what did all of those squirrels do to deserve an afterlife of torment?

Dog heaven is also squirrel hell it’s a very efficient system.

Has OP ever met a squirrel?

Source: reddit.com
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i saw this post earlier about therapists and it reminded me of my old therapist paul, who in my opinion is one of the greatest men alive and who did not put up with my bullshit for even one second

anyway i go in to see paul one week in the summer of 2016, and i’m doing my usual bullshit which consists of me talking shit about myself, and paul is staring at me, and then he cuts me off and says that he’s got a new tool for helping people recognize when they’re using negative language, and gets up and goes over to his desk

and i’m like alright hit me with that sweet sweet self-help article my man, because i’m a linguistic learner and whenever paul’s like here i have a tool for you to use it’s pretty much always an article or a book or something

paul opens a drawer, takes something out, and turns back around. i stare.

i say, paul.

is that a nerf gun.

yeah, says paul.

i say, are you gonna shoot me with a nerf gun in this professional setting.

he happily informs me that that’s really up to me, isn’t it. and sits back down. and gestures, like, go ahead, what were you saying?

and i squint suspiciously and start back up about how i’m having too much anxiety to leave the house to run errands, like it was a miracle to even get here, like i’ve forgone getting groceries for the past week and that’s so stupid, what a stupid issue, i’m an idiot, how could i–

a foam dart hits me in the leg.

i go, hey! because my therapist just shot me in the leg. paul blinks at me placidly and raises an eyebrow. i squint again.

i say, slowly, it’s– not a stupid issue, i’m not stupid, but it’s frustrating me and i don’t want it to be a problem i’m having.

no dart this time. okay. sweet.

so the rest of the hour passes with me intermittently getting nailed with tiny foam darts and then swearing and then fixing my language and, wouldn’t you know it, i start liking myself a little more by the end of the session, which is mildly infuriating because paul can tell and he’s very smug about it 

anyway i leave his office and the lady having the next appointment walks in and i hear what’s all over the floor? and paul very seriously says cognitive behavioral therapy tools.

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