Yes, I wear a nightgown from the thrift store. Whut.

And now a Patric Swayze reference.

God, that trailer is so ’90s. But there are two things I love about this movie (besides the obvious, because it’s awesome): 1. it was directed by a woman, and 2. the three main actors did all their own stunts.

Uhh, language is NSFW.

(Via MetaFilter, where the comments are, as always, priceless.)

Those fuckers better not screw up my approaching Florida vacation, and they better not fucking kill off the 8,000 remaining endangered Ridley sea camp turtles that are just beginning to recover from a 1979 oil spill.

If you asked a South Korean woman to draw what she thought she looked like on a wall in crayon, she would FORGET THE TASK BECAUSE SHE IS SO HUNGRY.

Even I wasn’t immune to that image pressure bullshit, when boutiques only sell one size of clothing and it’s the one you don’t fit into, when most Korean women wouldn’t dare leave the house without five layers of make-up and ten of hairspray on, when it’s the year 2009 and Korea still remains a culture where a woman’s main value is how many babies she can produce and how she’s more attractive to look at than listen to. This culminates into 99.99% of what made living there so hard for me, a feminist, an opinionated, and outspoken woman trapped in something akin to 1950s America.

Feeling very sick lately of people who seem to base their whole existence on promoting something, or someone, or themselves. Not everything in this world can be bought and sold.

At the risk of sounding too didactic, I’d like to ask this favor of you. Please go read this excellent blog post about the definition and consequences of rape culture.

When he calls a slim and attractive girl… a pig, he is using the word in another sense, one that suggests a particularly feminine kind of repulsiveness.

Can’t believe I was ever even remotely impressed by something Caitlin Flanagan would write. Alec Baldwin is no better.

Link via Gwen

Banned Books Week isn’t until late September this year. I went through a phase once wherein the only books I would read were books that had been banned or challenged. It was my Henry Miller phase.

The kraken legend is Norwegian, and has a real-life relationship to the giant squid. The documentary reminded me of watching Open Water late at night on hotel cable during our trip to Nantes and Norway, just a few months before going diving in French Polynesia.