I come bearing GOOD and BAD news! But since I want to keep this place full of positive aura, I’ll spill the good news first. Please ready your colorful confetti because Real Techniques by Samantha Chapman is now within our reach, fellow awesome Filipinos. KALM Cosmetics has just been…
Playing games with you!
This image is dedicated to genius programmer Kei making this app happen. He shares the adventurous tale of his love story, playing games with his girlfriend (soon to be wife)
Love exist in all form!Download HJS: Messages of Love app for iOS now and keep up the date with fastest early updates!
(The current version of the App has an iAP bug where you might not be able to unlock the imagepack and remove the ad. The update will be available in a few times! Stay tune!(
HJS Apple App - http://bit.ly/hjs-ios
HJS Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/hjstory.fb
HJS Tutorial - http://sellfy.com/p/4xlT
HJS Zazzle Shop - http://www.zazzle.com/hjstory*
Thank you for your kind words; I’m glad you enjoyed reading the comic :) Personally I see the drawn ‘bethrothed’ as a female dwarf (based on Armitage’s performance headcanon in that particular interview), but I intentionally went with a gender-ambiguous design and dialogue so readers can have their own vision of the character.
On an unrelated note, that’s an awesome costume you’re wearing in your icon! :D
In early 1992, a census report predicted that 40 percent of children would soon live in divorced homes. As one of the most famous children’s television programs in the world, Sesame Street was determined to take on a topic most kid’s shows wouldn’t touch. They cast Snuffy, a.k.a. Mr. Snuffleupagus, for the part of child divorcee.
With a team of its best writers, researchers, and producers, a segment was scripted and shot. It went through a half-dozen revisions, with input from the foremost researchers in the field. And on a typical sunny afternoon on Sesame Street, the furry, red, elephantine muppet known as Snuffy prepared to drop the bomb on his loyal preschool viewers.
“My dad is moving out of our cave,” he confides to Big Bird one afternoon, distraught after knocking over a house built of blocks. “I’m not sure where,” he continues, crying. “Some cave across town.”
Big Bird, naturally, is horrified. “But why?” he asks his friend.
Snuffy blinks his long, dark eyelashes, and pauses. We know what’s coming. Well, he explains, “because of something called a divorce.”
At a recent presentation, I asked all of the gay male students in the room to raise their hand if in the past week they touched a woman’s body without her consent. After a moment of hesitation, all of the hands of the gay men in…
I remember feeling stunned, then sick. Sitting at my desk at a New York City consulting firm in 2009, I had randomly Googled my name. The jarring result: a series of strange montages on YouTube—all containing snapshots of me, along with the label “whore.” The photos, cobbled together from various corners of the Internet, were shots from a beauty pageant and a few acting jobs I had held in the past, when I was signed with a regional modeling agency. My mind raced. Who hated me this much to post these things? Who would call me a whore?
Carla Franklin shares her story.