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May 24, 2013
317 notes
Support a Sex Worker and Rape Survivor's Legal Battle

tumblinfeminist:

rubyrevolting:

Support a Sex Worker and Rape Survivor’s Legal Battle - please reblog and spread far and wide!

I’m Ruby - a sex worker of 7 years from Melbourne. I’ve been involved with Vixen as well as organising the inaugural Festival of Sex Work.


About 3 years ago I was raped by a serial ugly mug. Due to his history I decided to report it to the police. The committal hearing happened in 2012 and the trial commences in July and will go for a week and a half. I will be cross examined for 1 - 2 days.

Knowing how difficult it was for me to make it through the committal hearing and to recover afterwards, I have scheduled a month off work. This will allow me time to get through the trial itself and to take care of myself afterwards.

Emergency money that I had set aside was recently eaten up by having to move house in circumstances that were out of my hands. I decided to work very hard after moving house to get the money together. Unfortunately I have been struggling emotionally as the trial approaches (particularly since my rapist’s legal team applied to subpoena my therapist’s notes about me), making it too hard to work as much as I need to.

I do not want to get a loan if I can help it, as this whole process as well as the rape itself has already had a big impact on my life financially - not to mention the cost to my physical and emotional health. I also applied for interim financial assistance from the Victim’s of Crime Tribunal. They denied my application for very whorephobic reasons. By their logic, because I continue to do sex work they do not believe that the assault must have had much of an impact on my life, if at all. If I was sexually assaulted at an office job, no one would question it’s impact on my life if I decided to keep that job afterwards!

I’m usually not very good at asking for help and take great pride in being as self-sufficient, resourceful and independent as possible. But given the trying circumstances, I am calling on all the help that I need right now.

It will take a massive weight off my mind in the lead up to the trial if I know that my expenses will be covered during that period. At this stage I have enough money to cover my rent during that month off. But not for groceries, bills, petrol, medication and those basic day-to-day expenses. My weekly medical bills are high due to complex mental and physical health issues (I suffer from depression and fibromyalgia) - so it’s really important that I can continue to see my psychologist and physiotherapist regularly during this time, as well as my psychiatrist.

To take a month off I will need $3300 to cover these expenses. Any contribution you can make will mean the world to me, and help me in my fight to force someone with a history of violence against sex workers to be accountable for his actions.

If I happen to be lucky enough to exceed my target for this fundraising campaign, all additional donations will go to Melbourne’s Centre Against Sexual Assault - who have been an incredibly supportive organisation to me since the day I decided to report the assault.


Please click here to donate via GoFundMe

If you can help, please do. 

(via gallifreyorbust)

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May 24, 2013
17,920 notes
tortle: catbuttcat: heysawbones: A Proud Moment. I don’t have a degree in eating blocks of cream cheese, which sucks because I’m sure it would add a lot of value to my CV. (Instead, I have “lying, poorly”. Does that count?).  I did eat a block of cream cheese once, though. I remember it fondly, because it was one of the proudest moments of my life. This probably says a lot about me, though god only knows what. I used to be part of a youth group, which is to say, yes, I was part of a church once. I was the “youth leader”, which is the church’s way of saying, “you are the only person in the youth group who doesn’t roll your eyes at us, when we talk to you.” What they did not know is that - aside from not actually being terribly religious - I had made the youth minister my sworn enemy. He was a weird guy. Very young; not too bright, frankly. Had a goatee, because the law requires all youth ministers to have goatees. It’s true. Look it up. He told us that Mormons owned Pepsi-Cola, and that The Gay Agenda created yaoi to recruit young men, the latter of which “fact” was really, really funny. A lot of the things he did were not so funny. Once, we went to a nursing home, where he decided to jump up and down in the elevator. He knew, of course, that I had an elevator phobia. I asked him to stop. He began sing-screaming, LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN, FALLING DOWN, FALLING DOWN as he jumped. A chaperone asked him to stop, couldn’t he see I was afraid? I backed into the corner and crouched there, clinging to the railing. That was the day he became more than just a moron. That was the day I decided I would make his youth-group life a hell. Most of the time, all I had to do was ask real questions about the Bible, and then ask him questions about his answers, and so on and so forth until he ran out of excuses, or said something deeply embarrassing. One day, he was trying to explain why it was still totally okay for parents to stone their kids to death for disobeying. He was flustered; inarticulate. I pulled a room-temperature block of Philadelphia cream cheese. He watched me unwrap it as he rambled on. I took a bite. I locked eyes. I did not look away. I ate in silence. There was confusion written all over his features. His sentences tumbled apart into further incoherence, and faded away. He was afraid.  I cherish that moment.  Why am I laughing so hard?? I had to read this out loudI can’t breathe

tortle:

catbuttcat:

heysawbones:

A Proud Moment.

I don’t have a degree in eating blocks of cream cheese, which sucks because I’m sure it would add a lot of value to my CV. (Instead, I have “lying, poorly”. Does that count?). 


I did eat a block of cream cheese once, though. I remember it fondly, because it was one of the proudest moments of my life. This probably says a lot about me, though god only knows what.
I used to be part of a youth group, which is to say, yes, I was part of a church once. I was the “youth leader”, which is the church’s way of saying, “you are the only person in the youth group who doesn’t roll your eyes at us, when we talk to you.” What they did not know is that - aside from not actually being terribly religious - I had made the youth minister my sworn enemy.


He was a weird guy. Very young; not too bright, frankly. Had a goatee, because the law requires all youth ministers to have goatees. It’s true. Look it up. He told us that Mormons owned Pepsi-Cola, and that The Gay Agenda created yaoi to recruit young men, the latter of which “fact” was really, really funny. A lot of the things he did were not so funny. Once, we went to a nursing home, where he decided to jump up and down in the elevator. He knew, of course, that I had an elevator phobia. I asked him to stop. He began sing-screaming, LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN, FALLING DOWN, FALLING DOWN as he jumped. A chaperone asked him to stop, couldn’t he see I was afraid? I backed into the corner and crouched there, clinging to the railing. That was the day he became more than just a moron. That was the day I decided I would make his youth-group life a hell.



Most of the time, all I had to do was ask real questions about the Bible, and then ask him questions about his answers, and so on and so forth until he ran out of excuses, or said something deeply embarrassing. One day, he was trying to explain why it was still totally okay for parents to stone their kids to death for disobeying. He was flustered; inarticulate. I pulled a room-temperature block of Philadelphia cream cheese. He watched me unwrap it as he rambled on. I took a bite. I locked eyes. I did not look away. I ate in silence. There was confusion written all over his features. His sentences tumbled apart into further incoherence, and faded away. He was afraid. 


I cherish that moment. 

Why am I laughing so hard??

I had to read this out loud
I can’t breathe

(via enjolux)

Photoset
May 24, 2013
8,839 notes

(Source: hummelandersons, via aradira)

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May 24, 2013
21,450 notes

pontmercyanide:

some flowers just arrived for my sister but my mom thought they were for me.

and so she asked if they were from henry and of course i asked what the hell she was talking about

and she was like “henry, the boy you’re always talking about.”

she meant henry david thoreau.

i quote henry david thoreau so much my mom thought henry david thoreau was my boyfriend

image

(via gallifreyorbust)

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May 24, 2013
116,679 notes
hellocaptaintightpants: SHE DID IT SHE SAID THE THING 

hellocaptaintightpants:

SHE DID IT SHE SAID THE THING 

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May 24, 2013
122 notes

drawasquarethatsgermany:

foodshortage:

gr33kw4t3rm3l0n:

I’m gonna assume this is another video virus bc I don’t recognize the person name or email and I’m not gonna risk playing it

so y’all wanna signal boost this up for me

image

It is a virus. I’m glad you didn’t get it

Dashboard, I though you failed me but you didn’t thank you because I just this an hour ago

(via gallifreyorbust)

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May 24, 2013
10,448 notes

The Impossible Girl and The Last Centurion.

(Source: clarabosswins, via doctorwho)

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May 24, 2013
15,219 notes

chickenforpresident:

guceubcuesu:

broken gifs 

These scare the shit out of me

(via nonnac)

Photoset
May 24, 2013
114,878 notes

Have your co-stars treated you differently since you’ve won an oscar?

(via breadinhotchocolate)

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May 24, 2013
267,374 notes

yourbones:

somegirlnamedkaitlyn:

My dog understands the word “No,” so how are you going to tell me teenage boys don’t know the difference between rape and consent?

Nailed it.

(via gallifreyorbust)