I have a few copies of “Playboy” from the 1970s stashed away somewhere. One of them has a letter where a guy writes in saying, “I met this really gorgeous, sweet woman, and we were planning to get married, but she sat me down yesterday and told me that she had a sex change before she met me. Mr. Hefner, should I marry someone who used to be a man?” and the response was, “So she had a sex change, big whoop. Would you be asking this question if she’d made any other change in her life before she met you? You love the woman she is now, and that’s all that should matter. If you want kids you can adopt or something.”
I feel so conflicted right now
Do you guys SERIOUSLY not know that Hugh Hefner is super respectful of women and doesn’t play around with peoples misogynistic bullshit?
just because you want to be surrounded by hot ladies 24/7 doesn’t mean you’re a douchebag
He was also a HUGE supporter of ethnic equality and Playboy was the first “Gentleman’s” magazine to feature a black woman spread. He fought for equality all over the place, he’s a huge activist for treating people with respect and love.
Hugh Hefner, offending people on both sides, and then forcing them to learn something
I caught up with a good friend of mine last night
after a year of not seeing each other.
I hugged him with tears in my eyes
and handed him a beer while we talked
about our shitty apartment we used to share.
I’ve spent the last year of my life putting
my pieces back together,
trying to make my heart feel whole again
but sitting right there with his arm around my chair,
drinking a beer, laughing at stupid inside jokes
I felt complete.
we didn’t even realize it was raining.
he doesn’t know me like other people do.
he doesn’t know that I write,
or that I have trouble sleeping at night.
but he knows about the lighter on the nightstand when I read,
what music I listen to when I clean,
how I swept the bathroom after I cut his hair,
how I look without makeup and a big tshirt on,
how I would sit criss-cross on the couch watching Scrubs.
he knows the side of me that is…happy.
and I realized when I told him goodbye at 4am
that maybe my heart wasn’t broken by the man I was engaged to.
maybe my heart was broken because I let a good friend slip away,
the only man who understood when I said,
“oh, shut up…just make me laugh, asshole.”
I think your heart breaks from the loss of innocence,
I think your heart breaks when the people who are suppose to be there
The second time I overdosed,
my body couldn’t handle it,
and I threw it all up.
I texted my dad saying,
“I think I took a little too many pills”.
And every time I’ve overdosed,
I always downplay it.
I’ve always tried to act
like it wasn’t a big deal.
That having the urge to swallow a whole bottle of pills
was something daily that normal people do.
My dad hurried home and saw the empty bottle
and he shook me to make sure I was awake.
I kept mumbling “I threw it up.. I threw it up..”
while I was drifting off to sleep.
He had to wake me up every 15 minutes
to make sure I was okay.
Let me tell you now,
it is a big deal.
The third time I overdosed,
I slept through first and second period
and passed out in the counselor’s office.
I didn’t want to go to the ER.
I just wanted to go home.
All I wanted to do was sleep.
Again, I just said,
“I think I took too many pills this morning.”
The fifth time I overdosed,
my dad found the empty pill box.
I hallucinated, I had a fever.
I couldn’t move my legs.
All I could do was scream,
“Don’t take me to the hospital this time.
I don’t want to go!”
I became friends with a girl who had overdosed
she’s one of my best friends now
and when I heard she was hospitalized as well,
it just makes me realize how real this problem is.
A couple months ago, another friend of mine overdosed.
Do you realize how fucked up it is,
that I’ve done it so many times
that I know the exact procedure that she’s going to go through?
She messaged me saying,
“I took a bunch of pills,
but I just realized I didn’t want to die.
I don’t know what to do.
And I’m screaming at her over the screen
that she should throw it up and call 911
because sometimes when someone you love
decides that they hate the world,
that’s all you can do.
You can’t teleport through the phone.
You can’t travel through the internet.
You can’t be there to hold them
and take them to the hospital.
Your love is not charcoal that can
absorb all their poison in their life.
I know, love that you would have done all you could.
Sometimes words aren’t enough.
Sometimes love isn’t enough.
Sometimes a person needs to try dying
to know that that’s not really what they want.
There’s nothing you could have done.
You’ve done all you could.
Just keep loving them.
But you see the thing is,
I got lucky.
I’ve made it back from 5 overdoses
without a scratch on me.
But that’s not always the case.
My favorite teacher’s stepdaughter
locked herself in her room and overdosed.
To this day,
her stepmother still has a scar on her heart.
To this day,
on the anniversary of her death,
her stepmother still stays home from school
on the anniversary of her death.
Her sister is in a bad mental state,
and so is her biological mother.
Her family has fallen apart.
You overdose because you think
you will get a peaceful release from death.
It’s not peaceful.
It is not like falling asleep.
It is convulsions, vomiting,
muscle spasms, fevers,
and sharp stomach pains.
An overdose is not instant.
Hollywood has you believing,
that an overdose
is how a lady should exit the world.
As quiet as she came in,
Peaceful and unnoticed.
You will go out kicking and screaming
and wishing you hadn’t taken them.