Forwarded from Vinnie Sullivan
As well as disliking the fact women pick on short men or men going through financial issues, I also detest this whole "she's a 10, but.." phenomenon, which is clearly intended to make women feel inferior and insecure. A 10 to me is not a 10 to someone else. Values, loyalty, and personality play a major part. If you are a beautiful woman or a tall, presentable man, the idea is to carry yourself well, not make others feel even more insecure within a society that's already doing its best to demoralise them. If you think that you're a "10" then you're already ahead and will most likely live quite a good life, so why not lead by example and be thankful. In this world, talented or fortunate people are only liked or looked up to if they carry their fortune or talent well. No matter how beautiful or talented you are, lack of humility will turn respect to resentment. As if a job interview or wage bracket, people are now categorising themselves into places that define their happiness or their lack thereof. Aspire to be the best you can and, if possible, lift people up. I can assure you, a great many so-called "10s" are anything but, whilst many of the humble women who've been made to feel less important, are. The more feminine, kind, motherly, loving, and the more loyal a woman is, the more attractive she becomes. If this doesn't apply to you, then you deserve the shallow, narcissistic world in which you're destined to live. π€
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Old footage of the Guards Crimean War Memorial is a Grade II listed[1] memorial in St James's, London, that commemorates the Allied victory in the Crimean War of 1853β56 which js located on Waterloo Place, at the junction of Regent Street and Pall Mall.
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Forwarded from Vinnie Sullivan
I'm tired of hearing people blame the unnessecery misery of historical hardships on "the past." The fact is, if the government had been genuine over the last few centuries, and had put the well-being of it's people ahead of all else, not only would no-one have needed to suffer, or needlessly die in order to build a financial, and autocratic monopoly for a handful of underseving names, but, being happy, they'd have made a far better world than the one we know today.
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Forwarded from Vinnie Sullivan
I can not emphasise enough just how much better London would be if architecture was still treated as an art form.
#Rotherhithe, South #London
#Rotherhithe, South #London
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1964 interview with the charming pensioner Emanda Billings, who reminisces about her life in Fraddon, Cornwall
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My favourite videos of 90s London are the ones where we can hear the sounds and voices that were present at the time. β³οΈ
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Forwarded from The Fyrgen β’ α«αα’:α’αα«
Robin Hood
by Michael Raven
I can see you, Robin Hood,
peeping around that tree,
calling me to join your merry band.
I'm sorry, but I have things to do,
places to go, and people to see.
I'd love to come,
but I've a race to run.
I can see you, Robin Hood,
hiding behind that holly,
girt in green, beckoning me
with promises of freedom.
I can hear your hunting horn
hallowing through the groves,
and curling down the river.
To you I will confess,
my spirit is subdued,
I need to be renewed,
Hold on, my friend,
I'm on my way,
not today, of course,
but tomorrow,
probably .....
perhaps .....
But Robin was gone,
to the wild woods he'd run,
and after him followed
a raggle-taggle bunch
of men far braver than me.
No-one looked back,
and I skulked home
for my tea.
by Michael Raven
I can see you, Robin Hood,
peeping around that tree,
calling me to join your merry band.
I'm sorry, but I have things to do,
places to go, and people to see.
I'd love to come,
but I've a race to run.
I can see you, Robin Hood,
hiding behind that holly,
girt in green, beckoning me
with promises of freedom.
I can hear your hunting horn
hallowing through the groves,
and curling down the river.
To you I will confess,
my spirit is subdued,
I need to be renewed,
Hold on, my friend,
I'm on my way,
not today, of course,
but tomorrow,
probably .....
perhaps .....
But Robin was gone,
to the wild woods he'd run,
and after him followed
a raggle-taggle bunch
of men far braver than me.
No-one looked back,
and I skulked home
for my tea.
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Stick your head through times window and witness Tottenham Hotspurβs former White Hart Lane ground in North London during the 1980s. Like most sights of Bygone Britain, it looks a damn sight more relatable than the new stadiums do today.β³οΈ
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