Thestral Spotter @thestral-spotter - Tumblr Blog

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georgiansuggestion

take your carriage very slowly by your rival’s home, that she might see your latest hat

luckyartisanllama

Eat your heart Catherine, you toad-eating hag.

lezcatnoir

Elizabeth, you must surely be aware that I am unable to view the roads from my apartments due to the vastness of my estate…

alsuper2

Oh, please do forgive my mistake, Catherine, I had only assumed you could see from that ostentatiously high pedestal atop of which you have placed yourself

77777777777777777777222-deactiv

everytime I stay at a hotel I take a bite out of the soap bar to confuse the cleaning staff

damaramegido

hey op real quick what the Actual fuck

transselkie

Hey op you do realize that by actually biting a chunk of fucking soap you are in fact the one losing

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the-future-now-deactivated20170

That’s Louis Rossman, a repair technician and YouTuber, who went viral recently for railing against Apple. Apple purposely charges a lot for repairs and you either have to pay up or buy a new device. That’s because Apple withholds necessary tools and information from outside repair shops. And to think, we were just so close to change.

Follow @the-future-now

dopeluminarydreamer-blog

Reblog if you:

Have an iPhone and are in need of repairs

Have a friend with that problem

Hate Apple and are more than happy to spite them in some way

No one will know which is it

weaselle

This guy inspired me to repair my own macbook. First of all, you should know that I am not… like, I have to look up HOW to look up what my computer specifications are. Tech, that ware either soft or hard, is not a subject in which I experience comfort or competence. But my puppy peed on my keyboard, and I asked the apple store, or the fucking mac cafe, or the godsdamn Computer House Chill Zone or whatever cute ass name they have for their bullshit store, and they said it would be TWELVE HUNDRED DOLLARS TO REPLACE MY KEYBOARD. I’m not even exaggerating.

So I asked the internet, well how hard IS it to repair? And I saw this guy’s video, and while I am no techie, I AM fueled by spite, so I was all “oh, they do that shit on purpose specifically so they can charge me $1200 bucks or make me buy a new computer hunh? FUCK THEM” and I bought all the tools I needed for about $25 and I bought all the parts I needed for about another $25 and I watched a few tutorial videos, and I replaced my own keyboard.

So, once you are doing the actual deed, it becomes pretty obvious that they are finding creative ways to make this much harder than it has to be on purpose. On thing that stood out to me is, instead of all the tiny screws being the same size, there are about two dozen very slightly different sizes. They could easily be all the same size, or like, two sizes at most, but no.

These mother fuckers will take a panel that screws into place and they’ll use a different size screw for each corner. They are so close that you almost cannot tell them apart visually, but they each will only screw into the matching corner. Like, it’s a pretty clear “fuck you” to anyone trying to do repairs.

anyway, this guy is also fueled by spite, and doing holy work, and I have mad respect

kasaron

Rossman is THE MAN. I have an infinite amount of respect for him as a person, and everything I’ve seen of him (he rants about other subjects) has been in keeping with a man who has a clear sense of who he is and what he’s about from a long amount of consideration.

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sandersstudies

I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”

rebelminds

I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.

snarling-through-our-smiles

I once lost my keys at a frat house.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch. Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out. I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house. I stood there, right in front of the front door. This was a novel experience for me. I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing.

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back. “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before. Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light. A few of them threw puzzled glances my way. I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing. I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed. I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house. I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like? I’ll put it into the group chat.” He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell. It was worth a shot. “Um, it’s just a ring of keys. The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big. Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out. Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering. It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder. One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob. “Girl! Hey, GIRL!!! We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me. I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old. One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs. I thanked them again profusely. There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.

nattousan

I LIVE FOR THIS SHIT

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mysharona1987

ithinkthatthismustbetheplace

That’s because it’s not skilled labor, anyone can do those things. In order to make good money, you have to be able to do something that not everyone can do.

ralfmaximus

ARTISTS aren’t skilled labor? Really.

Make me some art RIGHT NOW. Paint me a portrait in oil-based acrylic.

What? You don’t know that acrylics are water based, not oil based? Gee, that’s something only a skilled painter might know.

Or instead compose me a song. Design packaging for this new product we’re launching in 10 days. Make me a webpage with eye-popping graphics you didn’t steal from another site.

Artists do all that. In fact, every manufactured thing you touch passed through the hands of a skilled artist at some point.

FAST FOOD! If fast food is ‘unskilled’ then why does Wendys, McDonalds (et al) expend time on training employees? Surely if any asshole off the street could do the work they can just slip right in there and start slinging happy meals on day one, right?

Do you know the correct EH/OSHA-approved way to wash your hands? Do it wrong and you are literally violating the law.

Quick: what do the symptoms of Hepatitis-A look like?

Or let’s talk janitorial services. Do YOU think you can clean an entire floor of an office building in the allotted time? Where does the trash go? The recycling? How do you get ahold of the waste removal company when the dumpsters are inexplicably full at 4am? Whom do you call? What’s the account number? Is this even your job to worry about? If the dumpsters are full where do you put a night’s worth of collected trash?

What do you do with hazardous waste you might encounter, if you’re cleaning (say) an industrial workspace? Dispose of it incorrectly and that’s a crime.

What’s the procedure for when you encounter a trespasser in a secure building where supposedly nobody but you is working? Can you identify a fake or expired employee badge? Are you supposed to? Your training probably covered that.

How much would we have to pay you, dear @ithinkthatthismustbetheplace, to deal with a seriously clogged toilet? Shit-smeared walls, standing waste water, the entire place trashed as if it was 3am after a frat party? You have less than an hour to return that restroom to pristine condition. And no, building services is not going to help you.

You don’t think that requires skill?

Or adequate compensation?

reelaroundthedavekan

All labor is skilled labor

tinabelcherseverythingisokface

^^^

The idea of “skilled” or “unskilled” labor is inherently classist, and misses the fucking point anyway. All labor has dignity, whether you THINK it’s “skilled” or not, and all people deserve to live comfortably, whether they’re able to work or not.

When you peel back the layers of this bullshit argument it becomes obvious that it’s just another way to keep us huddled masses infighting instead of building guillotines.

adobsonartworks

The worst part is that we’ve convinced ourselves that art isn’t a skilled profession through media platforms. I can’t tell you how many artists (myself included) can’t ask for the money we’re deserved because we don’t feel like we deserve anything. We’ve been conditioned to pump out art for free on such a regular basis thanks to social media algorithms that nobody believes art is “worth” anything anymore. So many of my fellow artists have suffered burnout and poverty, because posting art consistently and for free is just “how it’s done.”

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neckweararchive-blog

I cry because the OVEN IS HIS SECOND CHOICE

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strongbowdarkfruit

itsmejaytee-deactivated20181208

excellent

moisturizedhole-deactivated2018

nervousvolcano

danielle-mertina

People don’t realize how many cops are literally white supremacists. Good on Anonymous for getting rid of one.

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shutupmerlin

My boss doesn’t take me seriously because I’m the youngest in the office by a decade and spend most of my time making his life hell (unrelated problems).

Yesterday he asked me to help him with a problem with a program we use but wasn’t actually listening to me when I tried to help, so it wasn’t working. He asked who the expert on this program was in our office and I told him it was me. He asked who the expert was within the organisation and I told him it was me. He sent me out of his office saying he would call IT to fix it. So I very patiently went back to my desk, where my phone rang a minute later, with IT asking me to help someone who had a problem with the program.

The sheer unadulterated joy I felt making direct eye contact with my manager through the glass wall of his office whilst I answered his phone call will fuel me for WEEKS.

waspinfested

i cannot stand this i keep seeing op’s face like this in my mind

Sweet generalization.

It’s not about whether a character is trans or gay. Gay characters make sense. People have been gay for millennia. Trans however. Not the case. In a high fantasy setting, how in the balls are they going to perform surgery where they change the sex of the character??? It makes no sense at all. They’d have to explain it. And remember, this is high fantasy, Game of Thrones is also in that category. This is a time where they would reach into your body with an object strikingly similar to a salad tossing spoon to yank out a small piece of arrowhead. Pretty sure they hadn’t figured out a surgery as complex as a sex change…

The people complaining that there aren’t enough gay/trans people in stuff like this are just as bad if not moreso than the people who complain about gay/trans people being in stuff like this.

Create your own fantasy world filled with nothing but gay/trans people. Make it so that being heterosexual is the minority. All the power to you. Good luck trying to create it.

didntfitthenarrative

You don’t have to have surgery to be transgender. Lots of transgender people don’t. Transgender people, people who identify with the gender not corresponding with their birth sex, have existed before the surgery. And the existence of and recognition of a third sex or dual sex existed in pre-modern times in lots of places are the world. So, for one, your “how in the balls are they going to perform surgery“ question doesn’t actually matter. They don’t need to in order for transgender people to exist. But if they did want to include transgender people who undergo physical changes to reflect their gender/sexual identity, in a HIGH FANTASY world, there’s actually a really easy answer to that:

pupperoni-pizza-deactivated2020

*ahem*

atomic-darth

“How are you going to make someone trans in a fantasy setting full of magic spells, potions, and artifacts?”

vaishino

shout out to the elixir of sex shift for covering more than just a gender binary.

kirinandvlindertje

also lets not forget that in ye old days (aka time of the ancient greeks (aka the bc years)) that people drank the urine of pregnant mares to feminize themselves. like, trans people find a way ;)