Not today Justin
Mike Driver
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Game of Thrones Daily
ojovivo
trying on a metaphor
pixel skylines
JVL
Cosimo Galluzzi
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
styofa doing anything
shark vs the universe
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One Nice Bug Per Day
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Janaina Medeiros
sheepfilms
titsay
seen from Norway
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@endlessroadhome
I know we touch on this fairly often but we really need to be emphasizing to these young LGBTs how important getting out there and mingling in the community is because we end up with 14 year-olds telling people that Drag is transphobic and twink and bear are slurs
literally everything is unisex if u stop giving a fuck
I made a useless lesbian aesthetic generator so reblog and tag what your new aesthetic is
mine is ambitious pastel bottom
This shouldn’t be this funny but it’s painfully funny
this is so cute
Give me some time. By Abi Ashra (Tumblr)
listen. cut off your hair. cut off all your damn hair. do you ever hear a man wondering if he’s too ugly to have short hair? no!!! there is no such thing as too ugly to have short hair. if you don’t want your hair, just cut off your hair. it feels so so so good.
I don’t know if this is weird or not, but I totes read Mulan as a trans woman! I tend to read all “women who pretend to be men” stories as very similar to my experience. In contrast, I’ve never imagined that a character presented to the audience as male was actually a trans woman.
Is my way much rarer?
In any event, I think we can all love Mulan!
stop the phrase “tattle-tale”. stop indirectly telling kids that if they speak up about someone that’s bothering them, they’re doing something bad. stop contributing to the culture of abuse.
seriously though this NEEDS to stop. my mother. a grownass woman of 59. had to ask me over and over again if I was sure it wasn’t ethically dubious for her to go to her employer and report harassment and terror tactics from a coworker because she didn’t “want to be a tattler.” stop teaching kids not to be “tattle-tales” because they will not grow out of it.
This this this.
I hope this is okay to add but in addition to the above it can create immediate and dangerous problems for children, with other children.
When I was six years old, one of my first grade classmates bullied me relentlessly for a long time. When I tried to tell the teacher that he wouldn’t stop touching me, she told me that I was being a tattle-tale and disrupting the class. So he got worse and worse. Before I knew it, he was telling me that I had to let him destroy my school supplies because his daddy told him that women have to obey the word of men. The bullying culminated in him and his friend waiting until the teacher and all the other kids left at the end of the day, cornering me at my desk, then threatening to bring his dad’s gun to school and shoot me if I didn’t stop wearing my favorite boots.
I didn’t tell the teacher because that would have been ‘tattling’. I didn’t tell my parents until they asked why I was upset that night. I wound up talking to the principal with my dad, and the principal was shocked that I had been too scared to report a shooting threat.
I know that a lot of people might think a kid would definitely report something like that, but I didn’t. A lot of kids don’t. Please, please give kids the chance to tell you if something is wrong, don’t brush them off, make sure they know that they can come to you for help. Don’t make them think they’re a burden or a ‘tattle-tale’.
And you might think, “Oh, well kids should know the difference between tattling and getting help, they should know when something is important and when it’s not. They should know better.”. They don’t. A 3 year old does not know he doesn’t need to cry when he wanted the blue jelly bean or if the thing he’s trying to do doesn’t work, those things are important to him and he is expressing himself in the only way he has ever known and it is your job to teach him how to manage his emotions, not internalize them because they “aren’t important”.
Little kids don’t know what’s important and what’s not. As they get older they learn, but if you just tell them to quit complaining and deal with shit, that’s what they’ll do until it’s bigger shit that does matter and now it’s your fault that your kid feels like he/she can’t express themselves when frustrated or scared or angry or whatever. You might think “Well, he’s 5 now, he should know.” Just, inherently? By osmosis? Did you even hold a child-rearing book against his head to increase the chances of successful osmosis? NO? Then I’m guessing you didn’t teach him that his feelings are valid but there are appropriate and effective responses, and which those are.
Also: Stop bullying your fucking kids into being bullies. “Man up” and “Deal with it” are not appropriate parenting techniques. You just told your kid that his/her problem doesn’t matter and they should just cram it deep down and stop bothering you with their emotions.
Yeah, you’re old as fuck and your kid’s problem seems stupid and asinine, but your kid isn’t old as fuck and that problem is new and they don’t know what to do about it. Don’t be a dick.
This shit seriously pisses me off, I remember when I was younger I told my parents that my brother broke my nose and I got grounded for ‘snitching’
Hogwarts Houses common rooms in Halloween season
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
OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS.
I’ve seen the first post a bunch of times, but never the story of How The Santa Tracker Started.
“What does it feel like to be high?”
Rosemary, Lavender, and Thyme.
(Link to article)
The auxiliary water pump on my car broke (the plastic rotted and cracked so it was spewing coolant everywhere) and the mechanic wanted me to pay $300 for a $150 part.
I went to an auto store and bought the part for just under $150 and was gonna have the mechanic install it until I called them back and they said they don’t install customer parts.
So I figured if they won’t install customer parts, they’ll at least fix existing problems with the vehicle.
So, naturally I poorly installed the new part myself, then took it to the mechanic saying I had coolant issues and wasn’t sure what the problem was. They fixed the problem in under 20 minutes and only charged me $30 for the labor.
Ho l y
Imma try that last one
I went to my doctor’s office and asked if they had any slots open for that day. They told me they don’t take walk-ins, you have to call ahead for an appointment.
So I pulled out my phone and called the office. The other receptionist answered the phone and the first one literally WATCHED ME say “I’d like to make an appointment today if you have any slots available.”
He said to me (on the phone) all they had available was for 9:00, could I make it in time?
I said “Yep, I’m standing right here.”
He didn’t understand what I meant and happily put my appointment down.
I hung up and said to the original receptionist, “Hi, I have an appointment in five minutes.”
She (very angrily) entered me as arrived and gave me my forms.
