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Maxímilian Ponce  23 year old Writer.actor.Recovering narcissist, professional instigator.Tall and handsy. Harley Davidson enthusiast.

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People are going to doubt you; that’s just life. But with doubt, comes opportunity — the opportunity to prove your doubters wrong (one of life’s greatest pleasures). Is there anything more satisfying than making someone eat their words by doing what they thought you couldn’t do? Let me answer that for you, “No.” It can be something as major as making a serious career move, or something as simple as eating an entire taco in just two bites to let your date know exactly what they're getting themselves into. Regardless of the severity, disproving someone’s opinion is always rewarding. You know the feeling I’m talking about. But there’s a good chance you don’t know the story of Susanna M. Salter. If you do, you’re now experiencing the sudden endorphin rush of proving someone [me] wrong — isn’t it great? (I’m kind of jealous.) For the rest of us, Susan, a.k.a. “Mayor Salter,” was the first woman elected to American political office. The crazy part: She didn’t even run. Here’s what happened: In 1887, a bunch of dudes put Susan’s name on the ballot for Mayor of Argonia, Kansas, hoping the prank would result in such a humiliating loss that it would discourage other women from ever trying to run for office. (Pretty fucked, right?)Well, Susan unknowingly proved those assholes wrong and won with over 60% of the vote.When news got out, Susan, only 27 at the time, turned the joke on them and accepted the position.And she was great at it,earning the respect of many for her authoritative approach to council meetings.(She handled her meetings like a fed-up girlfriend handles an argument:No time for shit.Get to the point, or get the fuck out.)When her mayoral term ended,she opted not to run for re-election and moved to Oklahoma,where she lived to be 101 years old.“Ha. Nice try, Doc.You were WAY OFF with your 40-year guess for the life expectancy of those born in 1860.”Yet another thing Susan was able to disprove during her lifetime — such a savage.Well, you just learned some fucking history. You’re welcome.Now get off your phone and go prove some people wrong today.For starters,if someone thinks you can only handle four Mimosas at brunch —have 7. #fitness #gym #box #boxersofinsta

A good rider has balance, judgment, and good timing. So does a good lover 😉.You don’t want to be remembered as “ordinary.”Whether in the bedroom or in the kitchen,at the office or on the runway —ordinary is boring, basic, and fucking forgettable.Nobody has ever done something significant with an ordinary mindset, and who says you can’t walk into the office still wearing Friday night’s fishnets?If you want to leave your mark,don’t be afraid to break the mold.Be like Princess Pingyang...As daughter of Li Yuan —duke,military commander, and descendent of one of China’s original Sixteen Kingdoms —you could say Pingyang was born in the spotlight.She very easily could have just settled in and become the typical spoiled,rich kid,but she wasn’t about that silver-spoon princess life;she was just as clever and cunning as she was wealthy and stunning.So, in 617, when her father declared war against the corrupt Sui Dynasty, you better believe she was ready to rebel alongside him.Now, she initially fled to avoid capture when the war broke out —but like any dude with a girlfriend knows —she only went into the other room to give herself time to plan a savage retaliation...While “hiding,” Pingyang gathered weapons,war supplies,and soldiers.She also convinced other military leaders to join her and bring their armies with them. She assembled and led 70,000 men known as “The Army of the Lady,”crushing any town still loyal to Sui Dynasty rule. She met up with her father,and together, they wiped out all trace of the former regime.In 618,the duo established the Tang Dynasty,which went on to become the second strongest dynasty in Chinese history.And,all of this would not have been possible without Pingyang and her bang-bang attitude. She became the ONLY female in feudal Chinese history to be given a full military burial.When patriarchal leaders opposed of this high-ranking honor,her father (the new emperor)simply said, “She was no ‘ordinary’ woman.” Damn, there’s that word again.Well, you just learned some fucking history. You’re welcome.Now, get out there and create some history of your own —start by getting arrested at brunch or something. #sportstergram #harleydavidson #ootd

The ocean is such a big beautiful place. I think that people love to go to the beach because of the same thing, it's so big that it makes you feel insignificant and if your insignificant that means your problems are insignificant and I think that's beautiful. Alcohol , you’re probably mid-to-dead-ass hungover this morning. So, it seems appropriate to kick off this Sunday with a bit of history regarding alcohol(#Beach+#ocean+#college=drunkenness). But I don’t want to talk about the creation of Satan’s sweet tea, I want to talk about the fun part: The act of drinking the devil’s soda. For today’s lesson, we’re going to take a fermented field trip to Tenochtitlán . . . Now the site of modern-day Mexico City, Tenochtitlán was founded as the Aztec religious capital in 1325, and this city-state was home to more than just human sacrifice and sun worship — it was also home to a lot of drunks. (It was like Arizona State University, but without all the blondes.) Although it’s well known the Aztecs were incredibly faithful to their #gods, most people don’t know the #Aztecs were also incredibly forceful with their drinking laws. It seems odd to me that a civilization with religious practices that involved literally bathing the temple steps in human blood would have such harsh punishments for bathing your liver. How harsh were these punishments? Well, public intoxication was punishable by death. That is, unless you were over the age of 70 or attending a festival. (Seriously, that’s not a joke.) It would appear life six or seven hundred years ago wasn’t much different than it is today: The Aztecs turned a blind eye to intoxication during celebrations — and for certain individuals — much like we do with things like drug use at Coachella, or your grandma’s dirty old-lady mouth at a family gathering. Now, it’s probably worth mentioning the death penalty wasn’t often used on first-time offenders; it was a sentence reserved for repeated overindulgence. First-time public drunkards were generally subjected to public ridicule like property destruction or forcible head shaving. (A fate worse than death, if you ask me, because a good weave is expensive). #allsaints

Making an entrance is fucking important. Trust me, there’s a reason people continually stress the fact that you only get one first impression. Pretty much any time you decide to turn off #Netflix and actually go interact with other humans is an opportunity to make a good one. (You remember what humans are, right? Of course you do — you’ve seen them on Netflix.) Anyway, on to today's #lesson do you want to know who the literal queen of making an entrance was? None other than Cleo-motherfucking-patra. Yeah, she didn’t just master winged eyeliner; she mastered pretty much every aspect of sensory seduction. And there’s nothing more seductive or memorable than the sense of smell. For example: It’s not the sight of a particular alcohol that will make you remember every aspect of your treacherous twenties — it’s the smell. Cleopatra knew the nose knows long before scientists were running tests about smell recollection. So, before she set out on a diplomatic voyage in 41 BC to meet the Roman general, Mark Antony, she made damn sure his nose met her well before he did. How did she do this? Well, in order to ensure she made the best first impression possible, Cleopatra had her ships adorned with beautiful, purple sails that were absolutely fucking soaked in her favorite perfume prior to taking sail. Thus, allowing the same winds that would carry her boats to Rome, to carry the scent of her perfume to their shores prior to her own arrival. Goddamn, say what you want about Cleopatra being a crazy snake lady, but she basically invented the art of arriving fashionably late. I mean, when your scent gets there before you do, you’re setting quite a stage for yourself. And, well, it fucking worked. After catching wind of Cleo’s arrival, Mark was head over heels for her days before her feet even touched Roman soil, and the two quickly became lovers and allies — forming the original “power couple.” Cleo and Mark were “about that life” more than two millennia ago.
Well, you just learned some history. You’re welcome. Now, the next time somebody tells you that you’re wearing too much perfume, tell 'em you’re just allowing your reputation to precede you.

Dating is a staircase, full of missteps, slips, and embarrassing moments. So dress well; at least look good falling down that staircase. Oh and sorry for ghosting all of you beautiful people. So here's some history. “getting ghosted.” But you know what? Getting ghosted is a fucking blessing. Because anybody who won’t give you the courtesy of giving it to you straight, is somebody you don’t need in your life anyway. So, if you get ghosted, just keep doing your thing and make sure the person who ghosted you lives to absolutely fucking regret it. Be like Edith Wharton. By the year 1905, Edith had already made quite a name for herself as an author, but her literary success did not carry into her marriage. (Apparently her husband was kind of an angry shithead.) So sometime in late 1906, she began an affair with a kindred spirit she’d found in another writer by the name of William Morton Fullerton. To her dismay, the affair was short-lived when Fullerton straight up disappeared on her sometime in 1908. Yep, he ghosted her ass. Over the years, she did what she could to find him and wrote hundreds of letters — yes, hundreds — in an attempt to get some closure, but Fuckboy Fullerton never bothered to even give her a response. Realizing love was dumb, she gave up and got on with her life. In 1913, Edith divorced her husband and moved to France. There, she continued to write, and in 1916, she received a French Legion of Honor award for her work during the war. In 1921, she became THE FIRST WOMAN EVER to win the Pulitzer Prize with her novel, “The Age of Innocence.” Like a boss, she never remarried and spent the rest of her life living and writing in the French Riviera with her dogs. She even went on to receive three Nobel Prize nominations before her death in 1937. And what did Fullerton do with his life? Not much. His claim to fame was Edith, and the letters she wrote to him were eventually published in a book. Yeah, although he didn’t respond, he received and saved every one — all 400 of ‘em. (Huh, suddenly sending five texts in a row doesn’t seem so bad.) Well, you just learned some history. You’re welcome #mezlan #ootd

Breadsticks, pasta bowls, piles of fries stacked so high it requires the effort of your entire squad to reach bottom — no matter your preference: carbs are fucking delicious. And, with the exception of trendy, gluten-fearing freaks, EVERYBODY enjoys the warm embrace of a tortilla, or the emotional security that can only be found deep within ice creams lustful layers . . . However, as is often the case, too much of a good thing can definitely be bad. Drink too much? You’ll puke. Sleep too much? Goodbye, social life. Eat too many carbs? Bloating, remorse, and complete energetic collapse, also known as a “carb coma.” Or, for you medical nerds, also known as “postprandial somnolence.” (Yeah, carb comas are so common, there’s a legit medical term for it. Use that shit the next time you want to impress your girls at brunch. “You guys, I had way too many fries. I can already feel myself slipping into, like, postprandial somnolence.”) So, by now you’re probably wondering, “Why all this carb conversation, Rusty?”Well, it’s because I want to share with you an interesting fact to discuss with your carb-loving compadres at your next gluten-fueled get-together —so here it is: Now, if you thought it was impossible for anybody to love carbs more than yourself, you’re fucking wrong. Bread-fucking wrong. (Ha. Get it?Like “dead-fucking wrong,” but with gluten.) Because as far back as the 5th century, the Greco-Romans were fucking carbs —yes, literally fucking them —with something known as an “olisbokollix.”Translation: bread dildo. Created by intentionally overbaking phallic-shaped breadsticks, the Greco-Romans had an entirely different way of expressing their love for carbohydrates.I know it sounds weird,but can you blame these women?They were married to a bunch of dudes wearing togas and sandals — NOBODY wants to have sex with that. Also,there’s no such thing as a breadstick drinking too much and getting Greco-Roman “wine dick.”(Hard carbs are always ready to party.)Well, you just learned some history. You’re welcome. Now, the next time you hear somebody say,“Oh my God, I love carbs,” immediately turn it into a discussion about dildos.#blog #history #gym #bootybuilding #carbs

#Tistheseason . Good luck finding the perfect I-like-you-but-I'm-confused-about-where-this-is-going gift for whomever you're "dating" this holiday season. Topic of the day,"Failed relationships." Sure, some people have had far more of these than others, and some relationships end far worse than they should — but no matter what — you’ll survive. A failed relationship is not the end of the world. Maybe you’re just having bad luck, or maybe you just make really bad decisions . . . probably the latter. But for the sake of today’s lesson, let’s pretend you’re not a terrible judge of character. Let’s do this by meeting a woman who — like you — also suffered from bad luck: Her name was Violet Jessop, and she survived not one, not two, but THREE fucking shipwrecks. No, not those shipwrecks you consider dating material; we’re talking about actual ships — not dicks. You see, Violet was a stewardess/nurse who spent her life at sea. In 1911, she was working on the luxurious RMS Olympic (at the time, the largest of its kind). However, proving size doesn’t matter, the motion of the ocean took over, causing the Olympic to collide with another vessel. The good news, despite suffering significant damage, they made it back to port without sinking. Unharmed and without fear, Violet got on with her oceanic career. (Her first wreck was kind of like your first serious relationship: not ideal, but nothing too traumatic.) In 1912, Violet was on the Titanic. And, we all know how that voyage ended, but Violet survived as she was rescued from Lifeboat 16 the morning after that iceberg meeting. (Leo should have got in her boat instead of holding on to that damn board.) In 1916, Violet was on the HMHS Britannic when it sank in the middle of the Aegean Sea following an unconfirmed explosion. Was THIS the end? Nope. Violet jumped out of a lifeboat to avoid being swallowed up by the ship’s propeller and, once again, survived. At this point, most people would be like, “Fuck this, I’m getting a job at a bank,” but not Violet. She wasn’t about to let past experiences affect her, so she got back to shore and back on a boat. Because she was "bout that life fam" Not retiring until 1950.

This #museum is cool af. One of the things I like about #chicago are the museums. This museum has like #5 airplanes. You know who loved airplanes? Amelia Earhart. Fun fact she disappeared over the Pacific. Another fun fact they neglected to tell you in school: Ms. Earhart wasn't flying alone. In the plane with Amelia was navigator, Frederick Noonan. (Don't believe me, Google that shit.) Now, I'm no relationship expert, but I think it's safe to assume Fred and Amelia were dating, even though Amelia was supposedly married at the time (on a break). I also think it's safe to assume Fred was seeing someone else, Amelia knew this, so she planned an inescapable time to confront him about it. I mean, what was he going to do, leave the room? "Ha, you're in a tiny plane, you dumbass, we're having this talk." And for that, she's a bad ass, because she outsmarted Fred and didn't take his shit. However, I think at some point the conversation went south, causing Amelia to lose her grip and have one of those jealous, if-I-can't-have-you-then-no-one-can moments; ultimately deciding to turn the plane into a boat. But let this story be a lesson to everybody reading; if you find out someone is cheating on you: buy a small aircraft, learn to fly it, suggest you take a romantic trip, crash that shit in an ocean, and you'll go down in history as a badass, while your co-pilot/navigator's name is forgotten as quickly and easily as Kobe Bryant's rap career... Well played Amelia, well played. #history #windycity #l4l.

Halloween is just weeks away, so it seems appropriate to discuss something scary today. Are we going to talk about ghosts?Nope. The Loch Ness Monster? Thought about it, but couldn’t find any decent photos. Children? Definitely creepy, but that’s a lesson for another day. I know what you’re thinking, “Rusty,what could possibly be scarier than ghosts, the Loch Ness Monster, and children?”Well, I’m about to tell you: feet. Yep, the hand’s awkward stepsister. Thank God you can hide(or at least accentuate)those disgusting ankle abominations with socks, footed pajamas, rollerblades, and most importantly, shoes.In particular, high heels…Stilettos, peep toes, ankle straps, sling backs —it doesn’t matter to me —I support that life, and any other shopping addiction that helps you hide your toes. I don’t even mind seeing a guy wearing heels. In fact,“Sweet calves,bro.” Now, speaking of calves and other cattle,high heels were actually invented by Egyptian butchers to keep their feet clean as they walked through the blood pools of slaughtered beasts. Yes,long before heels were being used to stumble through piles of club confetti, Egyptians were using them to power walk through blood and guts.(Might explain why your girlfriend often feels the need to use her shoes as a weapon.) Dating back to 3500 B.C.(some records indicate as early as 4000 B.C.),Egyptian heels were reminiscent of the modern wedge.The more traditional version of heels were first worn by Mongolian horsemen, and later, cavalry of the Middle Ages. Imagine that, Genghis Khan, one of the most ruthless motherfuckers of all time, riding into your town wearing some red-bottom Louboutins. Even if he decided not to burn down your village, his smoldering hot sense of fashion would have been enough to start a fire. Eventually, royals (A.K.A. “old-timey celebrities”) started wearing heels, and the rest is fucking history… Well, you just learned some of that “fucking history.” You’re welcome. Now, ladies, the next time your boyfriend says you have too many fucking shoes — kindly remind him, those “fucking shoes” were invented by fucking butchers — and you’re not afraid of a little blood. #nike #gym #legsfordays

My taste buds controlled me into not having just one slice but many. And that's the topic for today "feeling controlled". There’s nothing in life worse than feeling “controlled.” Whether it’s your boss telling you to stop dyeing your hair blue, or your bossy boyfriend/girlfriend telling you to unfriend someone on Facebook — being told how to act is annoying. If I were a dog, I wouldn’t do a damn thing my owner told me. If he said, “Go fetch,” I’d be like, “Go fuck yourself.” Then I’d go chew a hole in his new sofa. My point is: Being told what to do sucks. Unfortunately, this isn’t something you can avoid. People and organizations will always attempt to control you in some way or another, and that, is out of your control. But, you can ALWAYS control how you react. The way you react to someone telling you what you can and cannot do is completely up to you. Take for example Katie Mulcahey. On January 22, 1908, Ms. Mulcahey was arrested in New York City’s Bowery district for smoking a cigarette in public; which at the time was illegal under The Sullivan Act. A dumb law created by some lame-ass conservative union to ban women — and only women — from public inhalation. They believed smoking was immoral and had the law passed in order to preserve the purity of NY’s female populace. And, in all her impure glory, Katie broke that law. And this is what she said to the judge, “I've got as much right to smoke as you have. I never heard of this new law, and I don't want to hear about it. No man shall dictate to me.” (Such a badass. 10/10. Would marry.) The judge didn’t really like the feeling of his balls shriveling up inside him, so Katie was found guilty and fined five dollars (roughly $150 today). But, Katie didn’t give a fuck. She was just getting started. She stirred up enough shit after the verdict to garner the attention of the mayor. And, just two weeks after Katie’s arrest, the mayor vetoed the law and women were once again allowed to get their smoke on. Fuck “Columbus Day” — where’s our “Katie Mulcahey Day?” You go, girl. Well, you just learned something new. You’re welcome. Now, go enjoy your day, and if anybody (like your relatives) tries to tell you you’ve had

My mom with #juangabriel. #rip to a great man and talent, true music #icon and most importantly a wonderful human being. This man had a really hard life( you guys should look his life up). #divodejuarez. No long caption this time but Friday or Saturday you will get one(dm me a topic).#talent #michoacano #mexico

What a catch. Some good ass #mariscos. Speaking of catching, you yeah you reading this. Yes you, You’re a fucking catch. And, your boyfriend should act like it. Yes, even you, Ashley. (I already regret saying that.) Don’t waste your time with a guy who only wants to hang out at home, doesn’t invite you out with his friends, and is an all-around, selfish, fucking monkey. Find someone who is proud to be with you and wants to show you off. Like King Pedro (a.k.a. Peter I of Portugal) did with his second wife, Inês de Castro. You see, after the death of his first wife in 1345 (an arranged marriage), Pedro married Inês — causing an absolute shit-storm in the royal kingdom. Why? Well, Inês was not of royal blood and offered no strategic political advantages. So in 1355, Pedro’s father, King Afonso IV, hired three men to kidnap Inês, hold her hostage, and well, cut off her fucking head. (And you thought your dad was bad because he called your prom date a nerd.) Upon learning about this, Pedro swore revenge, but he was still just a lil’ prince and didn’t have a lot of power. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait too long. His dad died in 1357 and Pedro became the new king. First order of business? Make good on that promise. He tracked down the three men who killed Inês and had their hearts ripped out while they were still alive, because as he claimed, they had done the same to him when they killed Inês. Pretty emo move, but I can respect it. Then, Pedro had Inês’ body exhumed, dressed in royal cloth, and seated next to him on a throne as the rightful queen. Yeah, that’s how proud Pedro was of Inês. Dead, without makeup, and no fucking eyebrows (but probably with some kick-ass skeleton contouring), Pedro still wanted to show her off. So much in fact, he forced the kingdom to bow and kiss her dead-ass hands. Now that’s a dude who’s proud of his girl. Pedro went on to become a complete psychopath of a king; known for his affinity of torture, brutality, and heart removal. But, let’s not focus on that. Well, you just learned something new. You’re welcome. Now, go enjoy the rest of your Saturday. #seafood #govegan #foodporn

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