I’ve developed a strategy for when I go see bands that I really fucking love, and I go and rage up front and sing all the words and everything. Right around the last two songs, and you can sense when it’s coming, hurl yourself over that fucking barrier. Crowd surf, and they take you out, and they shove you out the door, and you don’t have to wait for that 2,000 person crowd to filter out. Honestly, it’s the best. Oh yeah, I’ll see you at the bar, motherfucker.
(Source: mtthitt, via asteroommatos)
"There’s no point to a guy yelling, “Hey sexy baby” at me out of the passenger window of a car as it speeds past. Even if I was into creepy misogynists and wanted to give him my number, I couldn’t. The car didn’t even slow down. But that’s okay, because he wasn’t actually hitting on me. The point wasn’t to proposition me or chat me up. The only point was to remind me, and all women, that our bodies are his to stare at, assess, comment on, even touch. “Hey sexy baby” is the first part of a sentence that finishes, “this is your daily message from the patriarchy, reminding you that your body is public property”."
- My First Name Ain’t Baby: ‘Hey Baby’ and Street Harassment (via official-mens-frights-activist)
Woodstock, 1969 (via)
(Source: vintagegal, via velvet-sixties)