

- Since I’m very mature, I LOVE prank phone calls. The bf and I like to clean the house on Sunday, cracking up laughing to them. This is one of my favorites. The lady gets so sassy!
- 25 Halloween dog costumes!
- Paintings from Australian artist Dale Frank. (via)

- Oh dear I love these shoes called the Robot by Ruthie Davis for Dennis Basso ss2011!! (via)

- I finally brought my sewing machine, box and spool holder from my parent’s house! I never thought we had the space here but I made space. My mom kept her machine in a closet and just sewed at the kitchen table when I was kid. That’ll do! I need to be able to work on projects here in the evening or I will go crazy. Sewing is the only craft hobby I’ve stuck with since I was a kid. Now… do I need an adjustable dress form?
- Hey! If you like edgy fashionable DIY projects, you should be reading Outsapop. Really. Would I wear these feather shoulder epaulettes? Hell yes I would!

- Soooo Marie Claire posted an article about how people feel uncomfortable watching overweight people on TV kissing or whatever. It got a bit cruel, garnered a TON of pissed off comments and media attention, and the author had to update and apologize (weakly). There has been a lot of fat-acceptance talk on the blogs lately and I think it’s great. NO, it’s not great to be unhealthy but it is great to not hate yourself because of how you look. I think some of the anti-fat-acceptance comments have been missing this point. It’s not “Yay fat! I love fat! Let’s all love fat!” It’s about still being strong and confident when you’ve put on some poundage. Appearance and self-worth are two completely different things that a lot of people get confused in darker moments, including myself. Something about morbid obesity that makes me incredibly sad though: Every morning when I commute like clockwork, I see a very large woman with a few small children about to cross 4 lanes of traffic to get to the school bus stop. The children dart across the road and she has a terrible time keeping up with them. I think about how she probably can’t play with her children as much as they would like, and how tired she must feel all the time. Growing up with a disabled parent, I can empathize with the kids.
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