I’ve said this before and I’ll point it out again -
Menstruation is caused by change in hormonal levels to stop the creation of a uterine lining and encourage the body to flush the lining out. The body does this by lowering estrogen levels and raising testosterone.
Or, to put it more plainly “That time of the month” is when female hormones most closely resemble male hormones. So if (cis) women aren’t suited to office at “That time of the month” then (cis) men are NEVER suited to office.
If you are a dude and don’t dig the ladies around you at their time of the month, just think! That is you all of the time.
And, on a final note, post-menopausal (cis) women are the most hormonally stable of all human demographics. They have fewer hormonal fluctuations of anyone, meaning older women like Hilary Clinton and Elizabeth Warren would theoretically be among the least likely candidates to make an irrational decision due to hormonal fluctuations, and if we were basing our leadership decisions on hormone levels, then only women over fifty should ever be allowed to hold office.
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHY DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS CAT BEFORE
HER NAME IS TAMA
AND SHE’S THE STATIONMASTER AT A TRAIN STATION IN JAPAN
SHE GREETS ALL THE PASSENGERS
AND SHE HAS HER OWN OFFICE
AND SHE’S PAID IN CAT FOOD
AND SHE IS A FUCKING EXECUTIVE OF A FUCKING RAILROAD STATION
AND LOOK AT HER
the trains are decorated with cartoon versions of her since she’s their mascot as well
MAN YOU GOTTA TALK ABOUT THE TRAIN MORE TOO THOUGH!!
FOR ONE THERES A LITTLE LIBRARY INSIDE WITH CHILDREN’S BOOKS!!
AND TAMA THEMED COUCHES AND BACKBOARDS!!!
AND THE FRONT HAS WHISKERS!!!
I MEAN CHECK THIS OUT!!
A TAMA CAFE!! AN ENTIRE TAMA GIFTSHOP!! TAMA NOTEBOOKS TAMA BAGS TAMA EARRINGS MORE TAMA STUFF I NEVER GOT PICTURES OF!! THERE IS SO MUCH TAMA !! THIS GODDAMN CAT!!
im sure ive reblogged this before but this cat makes me so happy
I heard my baby wailing and asked one of the officers to let me hold him. He screamed at me to sit down and shut up and blocked my view, so I couldn’t see my son. I could see a singed crib. And I could see a pool of blood. The officers yelled at me to calm down and told me my son was fine, that he’d just lost a tooth. It was only hours later when they finally let us drive to the hospital that we found out Bou Bou was in the intensive burn unit and that he’d been placed into a medically induced coma.
i want a word for the almost-home.
that point where the highway’s monotony becomes familiar
that subway stop whose name will always wake you from day’s-end dozing
that first glimpse of the skyline
that you never loved until you left it behind.
what do you call the exit sign you see even in your dreams?
is there a name for the airport terminal you come back to,
i need a word for rounding your corner onto your street,
for seeing your city on the horizon,
for flying homewards down your highway.
give me a word for the boundary
between the world you went to see
and the small one you call your own.
i want a word for the moment you know
you’re almost home.
“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
this is the best post on tumblr, hands down