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Mike Driver
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

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d e v o n
Not today Justin
Cosmic Funnies

#extradirty
DEAR READER
One Nice Bug Per Day
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

@theartofmadeline

roma★
Show & Tell
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@penumbra51302
Out of Touch
You can only REBLOG THIS TODAY
a classic
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 It was a temp gig working their out of date system while they moved over to a new one, since my knowing MS Dos apparently made me qualified.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
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it did not work, but i can help
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the ultimate dash cleanser.
That made me so happy! I wish it was longer.
I’m 35 now. Also here’s the original doodle
i feel like i just walked past jesus in a hot topic
The entire internet the moment the boat got unstuck:
Apparently when my grandma first came to America she didn’t know what a raccoon was and assumed it was a fucked up cat and adopted it. I just imagine this 13 yr old girl with a heavy Eastern European accent being like “this is my cat, Petr. He is not very friendly”
finally
it’s on my dash
HOW DID YOU FIND MY CRYING SHED
Been looking at this for a while, and something about it seemed off. Something else is going on here, behind the scenes. And it hit me.
Look at where the floor is. Her legs, in order to reach it, must be Liefeldian in length! And then the obvious solution presented itself.
She’s standing on a dog!
No wonder this man is in here crying. She is a monster.
Far be it from me to argue with someone with nineteen years and counting of artistic experience, but that is exactly what I’m going to do, right now! Watch me!
Yes, examination of that background and the marks on the floor of the shed lead me to the conclusion that there’s a great big hill of sand for her to be standing on. Thus obviously the reason he’s crying is that he’s just finished sweeping and now she’s letting all the sand in. As someone who spent many years at a summer camp with a sandy bank by the lake, and who was often made to sweep his own bunk, I can assure you that this is an unforgivable offense. Sand is the worst and there is always more of it.
I will give you that there definitely appears to be sand. However, it’s a clearly not a solid fixture of sand which would support the weight of an adult human woman.
Unless…
now he can’t even close the door
fuck you, lady
This is the reason I am on tumblr
your theories are all amazing, but i must say, they’re also false
this is of course the true explanation
because as you see, he has just stopped crying, realized everything’s ok, because he saw Her, his goth gf
I’m at goodwill and I think I might’ve found a millennium item…
I brought it to the counter to ask for a price because it mysteriously didn’t have a sticker, and after they randomly decided the price, one of the cashiers told me it was a shame it didn’t have a sticker cause she wanted to see when they put it out, she said it must’ve been recent cause she’s never seen it before.
So like…………… it’s definitely got a cursed Egyptian spirit in it
Hope you’re good at duel monsters my guy
black history month is coming to a closeeee but i have something that’ll help you draw black characters in any month! if it was helpful then hey… here’s my kofi 😏
Aw, yeah, that’s the good shit.
I love abandoned ruins so much
the world taken back by nature is my aesthetic
AND THIS IS WHY I AM AN ARCHAEOLOGIST
new mixed drink! i call it The Sludge
ok so i couldnt find grape fruit barrels or mint tums but i found…. alternatives
oh yeah
we’re doing it
awesome its fear!
IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING
“What is it that the child has to teach?
The child naively believes that everything should be fair and everyone should be honest, that only good should prevail, that everybody should have what they want and there should be no pain or sadness. The child believes the world should be perfect and is outraged to discover it is not.
And the child is right.”
— Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Westerners are fond of the saying ‘Life isn’t fair.’ Then, they end in snide triumphant: ‘So get used to it!’ What a cruel, sadistic notion to revel in! What a terrible, patriarchal response to a child’s budding sense of ethics. Announce to an Iroquois, ‘Life isn’t fair,’ and her response will be: ‘Then make it fair!’” –Barbara Alice Mann
new mixed drink! i call it The Sludge
ok so i couldnt find grape fruit barrels or mint tums but i found…. alternatives
oh yeah
we’re doing it
awesome its fear!
IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING
Crystal clear ice of the frozen Baikal Lake
always something new with this fucking lake
Imagine if you looked down and saw something looking back at you.
oh FUCK its GIANT ANTIMATTER SATAN better bring out the CAR KEYS
Pokemon’s pretty great
why is Hilary Clinton there?
pokemon go-ing to the polls
#this is how the economy should function
DO NOT CONSORT WITH FAE