Por el Glamor de Dios

ISFP, Aries,
29, El Paso, Católico, Gay.

Impassioned prose of a hopeless romantic.

arabiandelights:

Omani oasis

fuckyeahcocoamoo:

ima1ing:

spankkitten:

malformalady:

Octopus eggs

Photo credit: Simon Chandra

FUN FACT: These eggs are evil. Octopus babies are evil. Let me tell you why. The octopus mother lays her eggs in a cave roof and spends 6 months guarding them from potential predators and swaying the eggs with her tentacle so they get oxygen. This means she doesn’t eat or sleep until they hatch. When the octopus babies hatch, she dies from fatigue and starvation. THEN THEY FUCKING EAT HER. THEY EAT THEIR MOTHER WHO DIED BECAUSE SHE WAS LOOKING AFTER THEM. THEY. EAT. HER.

This sounds like what my mother said i did to her

Sounds like a “cool mom”

ahoychrispineda:

stunningpicture:

Spotted while house-hunting, unfortunately it wasn’t for sale.

I must live here.

Keeping it heal. #keepsitreal

Early in my freshman year, my dad asked me if there were lots of Latinos at school. I wanted to say, “Pa, I’m one of the only Latinos in most of my classes. The other brown faces I see mostly are the landscapers’. I think of you when I see them sweating in the morning sun. I remember you were a landscaper when you first came to Illinois in the 1950s. And look, Pa! Now I’m in college!”

But I didn’t.

I just said, “No, Pa. There’s a few Latinos, mostly Puerto Rican, few Mexicans. But all the landscapers are Mexican.”

My dad responded, “¡Salúdelos, m’ijo!”

So when I walked by the Mexican men landscaping each morning, I said, “Buenos días.”

Recently, I realized what my dad really meant. I remembered learning the Mexican, or Latin American, tradition of greeting people when one enters a room. In my Mexican family, my parents taught me to be “bien educado” by greeting people who were in a room already when I entered. The tradition puts the responsibility of the person who arrives to greet those already there. If I didn’t follow the rule as a kid, my parents admonished me with a back handed slap on my back and the not-so-subtle hint: “¡Saluda!”

I caught myself tapping my 8-year-old son’s back the other day when he didn’t greet one of our friends: “Adrian! ¡Saluda!”

However, many of my white colleagues over the years followed a different tradition of ignorance. “Maleducados,” ol’ school Mexican grandmothers would call them.

But this Mexican tradition is not about the greeting—it’s about the acknowledgment. Greeting people when you enter a room is about acknowledging other people’s presence and showing them that you don’t consider yourself superior to them.

When I thought back to the conversation between my dad and me in 1990, I realized that my dad was not ordering me to greet the Mexican landscapers with a “Good morning.”

Instead, my father wanted me to acknowledge them, to always acknowledge people who work with their hands like he had done as a farm worker, a landscaper, a mechanic. My father with a 3rd grade education wanted me to work with my mind but never wanted me to think myself superior because I earned a college degree and others didn’t.

Ray Salazar, Mexican etiquette some white people need to learn on dad’s 77th birthday.

Saluden Muchachxs, saluden.

(via frijoliz)

I’ve recently started doing this. 

(via paperleafs)

(via paperleafs)

catdad:

Robyn - Be Mine (Acoustic, Live)

Forgive me for feelings. 

Aaayyy, boys :$

(via dannybrito)

harrystylesdildo:

cosbyykidd:

harrystylesdildo:

When he say he gonna eat ya ass and you aint showered yet

image

I’ll see yall in church

When yall see each other in church the day after he ate ya dirty ass

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OMG

(via x-tower)