This boopmark that @codedpenguin gave me is the perfect pairing with @xiranjayzhao’s Heavenly Tyrant
(diamanté bookmark by Annabel at https://www.instagram.com/2020gingerandspice/ )
will byers stan first human second
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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Misplaced Lens Cap
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Jules of Nature
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we're not kids anymore.

⁂

Discoholic 🪩
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Peter Solarz

Andulka

ellievsbear
Mike Driver
Cosmic Funnies
𓃗
$LAYYYTER
Show & Tell
sheepfilms
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@codedpenguin
This boopmark that @codedpenguin gave me is the perfect pairing with @xiranjayzhao’s Heavenly Tyrant
(diamanté bookmark by Annabel at https://www.instagram.com/2020gingerandspice/ )
Hwæt!
Everybody look at my beautiful son Grendel, who has done nothing wrong in his entire life, ever
Grendel can have a little Danish. As a treat.
Oh, so when YOU grab a Danish for a quick snack, it's a guilt-free, tasty little treat. But when I, Grendel,
making a collection
Wait I have more
People: I know that you want tattoos but you shouldn’t get them as soon as you’re eighteen!! You need to be sure that you’ll still want them when you’re grown up!!!! You might like a tattoo now but you can’t be sure you’ll still like it in your forties or fifties!!!!!!!!
Me, a person who has trouble visualising the future and literally cannot imagine themself living past about 25: okay…
Hey op did you ever get the tattoo? Do you still like it?
Fuck this is a wild one to see again, especially as someone now about 3 weeks away from officially making it past 25:
- I remember 2016 as being the worst year of my fucking life, in ways it’s gonna be hard to beat and the universe better not fuckin try
- since 2016, I’ve gotten a degree in a field that I love, been in a toxic relationship, had a toxic relationship end, been in a kind but ultimately not what we wanted relationship, had that end too, been single for a while, learned I’m trans, started hrt, gotten in a different lovely proudly queer relationship which I’m very happy in, made friends, lost friends, mourned friends, made new friends, gotten a job I liked, made manager, quit, got another job that lets me do a bit of good in the world, gotten top surgery, travelled, swam shirtless in the warm sea, written half a dozen zines and a poetry chapbook, performed poetry, accepted I’m probably never gonna make a career out of poetry alone, gone on and off and on again various mental health treatments and hopeful that this one will stick for as long as it needs to, walked probably a thousand or more cumulative miles wearing through the soles of half a dozen or more boots, laughed, cried, rested, collapsed from fatigue, crawled back out again
- if I could reach back to the kid making this post… buddy, I’m not gonna say it’ll all be alright, because that’s pat and trite and diminishes the very real struggles of growing. But we cut our hair and change our name and grow a beard and we’re not Quite out of the shitty little hometown but we’re getting there. I think you’d like the jumper I’m wearing. I saw mcr live and I know you’d kill me with jealousy for it. I took you with me, as much as I could. I still think you’ve got great taste in movies, and I’ve got some new recs for you.
- I now have 4 tattoos! None of them are the ones I thought I’d have, but that’s okay. The first one is not an art style I’d choose today but the design holds a ton of meaning for me, and always will, and I don’t regret it. The other 3 are a more cohesive art style - maybe I could have changed the placement or tweaked some details, but I don’t need to, they’re part of me now and they’re beautiful for it. I’m excited to get more and to live long enough to reflect on them like this again and again and again
- 25 felt impossibly old to you. Right now it feels both impossibly old and impossibly young. I’m glad I got to see what it brought me, even the shit parts
- I’ll put aside a slice of cake next month in your honour
I’m glad I asked. I’m glad you’ve made it this far. I hope we both make it another 10 years and it keeps being worth it.
If you see the quote "I refuse to share my body with a man who wouldn't defend it politically" or any variation of it floating around the internet — it was Kat Blaque who originally said it and she would really appreciate it if people gave her proper credit for it but it's gone viral on a lot of different platforms and most of the people sharing it don't know it's from her or choose not to credit her on purpose.
Like I just know terfs are going to be parroting it pretending it wasn't said by a black trans woman about herself & her life.
HERE’S THE THING THOUGH
I used to work for a call center and I was doing a political survey and I called this number that was randomly generated for me and the way our system worked was voice-activated so when the other person said hello you’d get connected to them, so I just launch right into my “Harvard University and NPR blah blah blah” thing and then there’s this long pause and I think the person’s hung up even though I didn’t hear a click
And then I hear “you shouldn’t be able to call this number.”
So I apologize and go into the preset spiel about because we aren’t selling anything, etc. etc. and the answer I get is
“No, I know that. What I mean is that it should be impossible for you to call this number, and I need to know how you got it.”
I explain that it’s randomly generated and I’m very sorry for bothering him, and go to hang up. And before I can click terminate, I hear:
“Ma’am, this is a matter of national security.”
I accidentally called the director of the FBI.
My job got investigated because a computer randomly spit out a number to the Pentagon.
This is my new favourite story.
When I was in college I got a job working for a company that manages major air-travel data. It was a temp gig working their out of date system while they moved over to a new one, since my knowing MS Dos apparently made me qualified.
There was no MS Dos involved. Instead, there was a proprietary type-based OS and an actually-uses-transistors refrigerator-sized computer with switches I had to trip at certain times during the night as I watched the data flow from six pm to six AM on Fridays and weekends. If things got stuck, I reset the server.
The company handled everything from low-end data (hotel and car reservations) to flight plans and tower information. I was weighed every time I came in to make sure it was me. Areas of the building had retina scanners on doors.
During training. they took us through all the procedures. Including the procedures for the red phone. There was, literally, a red phone on the shelf above my desk. “This is a holdover from the cold war.” They said. “It isn’t going to come up, but here’s the deal. In case of nuclear war or other nation-wide disaster, the phone will ring. Pick up the phone, state your name and station, and await instructions. Do whatever you are told.”
So my third night there, it’s around 2am and there’s a ringing sound.
I look up, slowly. The Red phone is ringing.
So I reach out, I pick up the phone. I give my name and station number. And I hear every station head in the building do the exact same. One after another, voices giving names and numbers. Then silence for the space of two breaths. Silence broken by…
“Uh… Is Shantavia there?”
It turns out that every toll free, 1-900 or priority number has a corresponding local number that it routs to at its actual destination. Some poor teenage girl was trying to dial a friend of hers, mixed up the numbers, and got the atomic attack alert line for a major air-travel corporation’s command center in the mid-west United States.
There’s another pause, and the guys over in the main data room are cracking up. The overnight site head is saying “I think you have the wrong number, ma’am.” and I’m standing there having faced the specter of nuclear annihilation before I was old enough to legally drink.
The red phone never rang again while I was there, so the people doing my training were only slightly wrong in their estimation of how often the doomsday phone would ring.
Every time I try to find this story, I end up having to search google with a variety of terms that I’m sure have gotten me flagged by some watchlist, so I’m reblogging it again where I swear I’ve reblogged it before.
But none of these stories even come close to the best one of them all; a wrong number is how the NORAD Santa Tracker got started.
Seriously, this is legit.
In December 1955, Sears decided to run a Santa hotline. Here’s the ad they posted.
Only problem is, they misprinted the number. And the number they printed? It went straight through to fucking NORAD. This was in the middle of the Cold War, when early warning radar was the only thing keeping nuclear annihilation at bay. NORAD was the front line.
And it wasn’t just any number at NORAD. Oh no no no.
Terri remembers her dad had two phones on his desk, including a red one. “Only a four-star general at the Pentagon and my dad had the number,” she says.
“This was the ‘50s, this was the Cold War, and he would have been the first one to know if there was an attack on the United States,” Rick says.
The red phone rang one day in December 1955, and Shoup answered it, Pam says. “And then there was a small voice that just asked, ‘Is this Santa Claus?’ ”
His children remember Shoup as straight-laced and disciplined, and he was annoyed and upset by the call and thought it was a joke — but then, Terri says, the little voice started crying.
“And Dad realized that it wasn’t a joke,” her sister says. “So he talked to him, ho-ho-ho’d and asked if he had been a good boy and, ‘May I talk to your mother?’ And the mother got on and said, ‘You haven’t seen the paper yet? There’s a phone number to call Santa. It’s in the Sears ad.’ Dad looked it up, and there it was, his red phone number. And they had children calling one after another, so he put a couple of airmen on the phones to act like Santa Claus.”
“It got to be a big joke at the command center. You know, ‘The old man’s really flipped his lid this time. We’re answering Santa calls,’ ” Terri says.
And then, it got better.
“The airmen had this big glass board with the United States on it and Canada, and when airplanes would come in they would track them,” Pam says.
“And Christmas Eve of 1955, when Dad walked in, there was a drawing of a sleigh with eight reindeer coming over the North Pole,” Rick says.
“Dad said, ‘What is that?’ They say, ‘Colonel, we’re sorry. We were just making a joke. Do you want us to take that down?’ Dad looked at it for a while, and next thing you know, Dad had called the radio station and had said, ‘This is the commander at the Combat Alert Center, and we have an unidentified flying object. Why, it looks like a sleigh.’ Well, the radio stations would call him like every hour and say, ‘Where’s Santa now?’ ” Terri says.
For real.
“And later in life he got letters from all over the world, people saying, ‘Thank you, Colonel,’ for having, you know, this sense of humor. And in his 90s, he would carry those letters around with him in a briefcase that had a lock on it like it was top-secret information,” she says. “You know, he was an important guy, but this is the thing he’s known for.”
“Yeah,” Rick [his son] says, “it’s probably the thing he was proudest of, too.”
So yeah. I think that might be the best wrong number of all time.
Source: http://www.npr.org/2014/12/19/371647099/norads-santa-tracker-began-with-a-typo-and-a-good-sport
No okay THAT is adorable and I’m queueing this for next December.
Same.
Link in bio. What will he learn?
watching children successfully and compassionately self-mediate conflict and wondering if it's possible to pinpoint where exactly it all goes wrong for us
group of kids aged ~4 to ~8. little boy starts crying. the group descends from all corners of the play room and start by asking him if he's okay, if he got hurt. they tell him it's okay to cry if he's feeling sad or mad, it's okay, it's all okay.
they ask him if he wants to talk about it because they can solve their problems together. they have perfected empathetic tone modulation and sympathy sharing. ("my sister takes toys when it's not her turn and it makes me mad and i cry too. it's okay to cry if you're mad.") their clumsy little hands are patting him on the back and hugging at his arms. we are a species of immaculate mimicry.
he says jessica was mean to him. 3 of them who know jessica agree that jessica is never ever mean, so they posit that perhaps there was maybe an accidentally communication error ("maybe you didn't mean to say something that hurt her feelings! it's okay! it was nobody's fault if you did!") or that maybe jessica is having a bad day. they are working together to completely remove blame from the situation, effectively cooperatively de-escalating. there's a little bit of talking over each other, but no one puts down anyone else's ideas. if they do disagree, they subtly "yeah that, but also maybe—" to it so no one feels like their idea was stupid or bad or wrong. i don't even think they know they're doing it. inclusivity requires absolutely no thought or effort.
they hunt down jessica and bring her to the tribunal. jessica is also treated to blame cancelling, comforting touches, lack of judgement, and sympathetic tones. they ask her if she's feeling okay. they tell her she made arjun cry "accidentally and not on purpose" and they want to fix what happened.
jessica and arjun stand opposite in a circle of very concerned little faces eager to problem solve. jessica (crying) says she didn't like the way arjun was playing. arjun (also crying) says he didn't know because she didn't tell him the rules. jessica says she's sorry. arjun says he's sorry. they hug it out. the group is very excited to have successfully solved conflict and immediately announce they'll be doing a new activity, all together.
i clean up the play area and wonder what they'll all be like in 20 years.
how to explain to mutuals that while yes you can have my discord, and i wanna hang out! my response time is anywhere between 3-7 business days
stray cat that's very affectionate and enjoys spending time on the porch with you but disappears once a week and after a while you think you'll never see them again until you open the front door and theyre sleeping in your boots
first 5 faceless emojis are how your summers gonna go
Magnus Archives fan I see
THIS IS SO FUNNY I'M SORRY
👑🍑✨👍👢
Obviously I'm hanging out with Princess Peach and something about boots
💕👍💭🫲💌
I FIND LOVE?
😈🏕️💖💚🤞🏿
Well I be.
🎶💐👍💖🪤
It's a trap!
💕🤞🏻🫛✨👏🏻
Hoping for two, get a whole pod?
🌽🎊🙌🏻🤞🏻💯
Excited for corn and hoping it turns out well!
PENGUINS. all of them!
(not precisely to scale, but close)
Quality— not quantity —darling
Delectatio Morosa: A Conclave Visual Novel
We’re very excited to announce Delectatio Morosa: A Conclave Visual Novel coming soon in early March!
Play as Dean Thomas Cardinal Lawrence as he prepares for an All Saints’ Day Celebration at the Vatican, and try to manage his fellow Curia members too!
LET’S HAVE A CONCLAVE
type of person who watched conclave stoked for a real life conclave soon cos they now know how it works and there'll be drama
recurring disappointment that they can't actually watch the one in real life