i love it when the short kings at my university jump to slap the top of a doorframe or sit on a counter or desk. did that make u feel like a big boy? did u like going uppy? do u wanna go uppy again?
the short kings have spoken
this post has been screenshotted and reposted to high hell on other social media to the point where my fucking boyfriend is asking if i want uppies to feel like a big boy. my good bitch we are the same height.
I’m not a Redditor so I could be wrong. But this looks pretty fucking bad
this is a really funny move because the unpaid labour of thousands upon thousands of mods is a fundamental load bearing part of reddits functionality and if you start banning them then eventually the site just won’t work
This reminds me of that post that was going around about the lady who built a gorgeous backyard garden while she was renting, but then the owners decided to kick her out and sell the property so she took everything in the backyard with her bcs ofc it was all stuff she built herself and not there when she moved in, and the owners threw a huge fit bcs they’d counted on that gorgeous backyard to bring the property value up and were demanding she put it all back. Or like the other post where the guy built that bar basically from the ground up but then the building owners kicked him out so he took the bar with him and they got mad even though he’d paid for and put it all in himself.
I think that’s kinda what reddit’s owners are doing rn only worse, they’re demanding everyone return all of the content that gives their site value and can’t seem to comprehend that the users who made that content are well within their rights to take it with them now that reddit’s owners have made the place fuckin’ uninhabitable. Like they don’t realize all they’re providing is an empty backyard or a bland bar, and thus are going around trying to steal back the content that they don’t own in the first place bcs they know without it they have nothing.
Like god imagine if like a popular tumblr user decided to delete their blog bcs it was full of personal posts and stuff they just don’t want up anymore, but tumblr was like “uh no, you’re too popular actually, people come here just for you, so we’re just gonna give your blog to someone else who can run it the way you did but also will do what we tell them to do” that’s basically what they’re doing here and it’s fucking despicable and would NOT stand on any other platform.
Anyway this just proves that reddit needs it’s users, not the other way around, and tbh I don’t blame anyone for deleting all their content off the platform, especially if reddit is going to decide they just get to keep all of it actually fuck you.
They mean that there’s a room in your house where the household’s single computer goes (no one has laptops or smartphones) and that is the “computer room” and if you want to type up a document or play a game or go on the internet you go to the computer room and use the computer in there.
Ever since I got a job as a security guard I can’t take heist movies seriously anymore.
Why is that?
Accurate heist movie: The Team is sneaking into a high security facility. An alarm is triggered, they freeze, prepared to knock out whoever responds to the alarm. It takes 40 minutes for someone to respond. When they finally do show up, they shuffle along, annoyed, arms full of 16 bags of pretzels for some reason, and reset the alarm without bothering to check their surroundings. They report that the alarm went off in error. Security control starts a fight about the correct designation of the door. The guard announces that they’re leaving the alarm key in the alarm because it’s always going off for no reason. No one challenges them on this. They shuffle away, leaving an alarm key and several bags of pretzels behind.
The Team knocks out a security guard and steals their radio. The team mimic can perfectly replicate the knocked out guard’s voice. They get caught because they pronounced the name of the company correctly.
The Team disables an alarm. The only way to do this is to rip it out of the wall and disassemble it until it physically can’t make noise anymore. This very loud process is clearly heard by the posted security guard nearby, who rolls their eyes and text their supervisor that the logistics contractors are fooling with the alarms again.
The Team breaks into the facility at night. There they meet a single security guard who is chanting potential names for NPCs in their DnD campaign out loud while they do their patrols. They encounter a fire extinguisher. They pause in their chanting to check that it is properly charged and to apply a sticker that reads, “Anal use only”. This guy is disgustingly good at their job. There’s no way around it, they’re going to catch you. And you’re going to have to deal with the fact that you’ve been had by someone who has a supply of stickers that say “Anal use only” and who unironically wanted to name their NPC shopkeep Mammogrammus.
The Team attempts to bribe a security guard. This is its own post but know there’s no way in hell that would work.
The Team breaks into the high security room and disables all the alarms. Security control sends several guards to investigate why there are no alarms going off.
The Team attempts to break into the high security room but can’t because it’s randomly decided not to let anyone at all in today.
The Team steals a keycard with “””””unlimited””””” access to the facility and gets caught because the computer system that manages keycards randomly revokes access for no reason.
The Team walks past a security guard in broad daylight wearing T-shirts that say, “We are here to rob you”. The security guard does nothing, having seen several people in logistics wearing that exact shirt two days prior.
This sounds like a great movie, honestly
I will always remember that when I worked for a pharmaceutical company in IT, there were massive security procedures, systems with air gaps, locations with biometric scanners and metal detectors and locking revolving doors, but the highest level of security was a human being in a bulletproof proof room with line of sight to the door and a button. To /get/ to the door, you had to go through tons of other layers and badge access and identity verification, but the final lock was a dual physical key (which required two people to open) and a human being with a book of photographs and a button to push.
At the onset of the 2008-onward recession it became more or less impossible to get the sort of summer gig that college students traditionally get. I couldn’t get a callback from any of the area fast food restaurants, the babysitting gigs were gone, I drew blanks on waitressing, dishwashing, landscaping, car washes, summer camps, you name it. The big local summer attraction near me is a horse racetrack, and I put in apps for every position from betting clerk to horse manure removal tech. I got one (1) job offer that summer, and it was to be a security guard. I was a 19 year old girl with a perky ponytail, big ol’ doe eyes, and no experience or interest whatsoever in policing, so I genuinely thought I’d gotten the offer because they’d confused my application with someone else’s… until the first day of training.
Training consisted of a number of retired high ranking New York State Troopers very earnestly trying to convince a room of “dudes who desperately wanted to be a cop but couldn’t jump even that low hurdle” and also “one increasingly incredulous 19 year old girl who could only hear a loud high pitched note in one ear because she stood too close to her amps at the punk show last night” not to bring swords, shurukens, or butterfly knives into work.
We went over the “do not bring in your own weapons” lecture for the majority of day 1 of training. Day 2 was also “do not bring in your own weapons” for a lot of the day, then we moved onto “identifying the different types of fire extinguisher,” and wrapped up the day with “wasp stings.” Well, actually during “wasp stings” we had a sidebar when this one guard who looked like Ben Franklin raised his hand and shared that he, personally, took care of wasps by blowing their nests up with improvised gasoline-based explosives, so technically we wrapped up the day with “do not bring in your own weapons even if those weapons are to harm a wasp.”
Day 3 was a half day, where we reviewed everything we’d learned about no weapons, fire extinguishers, and wasps, and then we took a written test, which I finished with a perfect score in three minutes so Sargeant Minetti made me grade everyone else’s. After that, I was a full ass security guard; I picked up my fake cop uniform, badge(!!!), tiny notebook, strapped a walkie to my belt, and was given my assignment. My beat was very very literally the most public facing one that existed; while most of my colleagues were posted at gates that might never get opened for the entire summer, I had “the wholeass quarter mile of pavement abutting the chain link fence that separated the public from the ponies.” My responsibilities were simple:
1. tell people to move their rolling coolers out of the fire lane
2. take people with wasp stings to the nurse
and oh yeah
3. every time a clerk at a betting window in my section accumulated more than $10,000 dollars in cash, I had to escort them for ½ of a mile through the incredibly dense crowd of drunk people, any of whom might be interested in stealing more than $10,000 dollars, and get the money safely into the giant vault.
I remember the very first run i made. The betting clerk looked at me, the 19 year old responsible for protecting both them and $10,000. I looked back at him through the mirrored aviators that I’d bought at a gas station for 5 bucks because I thought it was very very funny and good fake cop cosplay. My walkie hissed ominously.
“…Uh, so if someone tries to take the money, what are you going to do?” He asked.
“Well, I get paid 12 bucks an hour, so… nothing.” I responded. “How about you?”
We quickly arrived at an understanding.
Two of the guards from my training group got fired that summer for bringing in their own weapons, and at least one of them had both a butterfly knife and at least one shuruken. Many more dropped out as they discovered that they would not actually be doing Die Hard shit. As for me, I did literally nothing to prevent crime all summer, but I also halfheartedly cleared a path through the crowd at the front of a very sad “St. Patrick’s Day In July” parade, which made me enough of a success story that they actually called me unprompted to ask if I’d come back the next year… with one caveat.
See, the next year I returned as a weathered veteran with a spotless disciplinary record, so they gave me three hours of additional training to get a certification to become a peace officer. As a result, from ages 20-23 (when my license expired) I had the same legal powers of arrest as a police officer.
Me. They just gave me that.
In conclusion, if you’re a highly qualified team of heistmen looking to rob an entity that accumulates wealth by convincing drunk desperate people to give them their money and you pick a fucking casino when the racetrack is right there, you’re either thinking way too inside the box… or you have a healthy fear of shurukens I guess.
Only valid response to this post, everyone else can go home.
Ken’s purpose was to be Barbie’s trophy husband. He barely had any good clothes or shoes to wear.
*boyfriend. trophy boyfriend. occasional fiancé. but barbie was designed to stand alone. she’s had a credit card in her own name since before women could have credit cards in their own names.
when I was 14 I worked in a grocery store and one day I got to bag Stephen King’s groceries and of course, being the little horror fiction nerd I am I was completely starstruck
I think he thought I was gonna ask for an autograph because I was not even lowkey staring I was full on moon-faced and bouncing and he kept looking over at me hesitantly like aw jeez kid fuck off
anyways I finally managed to squeak out that I was a huge fan and asked for advice on writing, “how do I write as well as you do?” in my horrible thick German accent and broken ass English and he gave me the best writing advice I have ever received
“shit kid, stop worrying about how other people do it and just write your story”
14 years later my wife and I nearly hit him with our car because he was jaywalking
Is it just me or are the new tumblr users convinced there’s a penalty of some kind for using this site like it’s meant to be used?
reblogs have always been in short supply for artists, sadly, but it’s hitting the shitposts and even the cat pictures lately.
Gotta keep getting the word out that reblogs are good and keep people posting new material that will be passed around for the next 12 years
They’re used to other social media sites, where the only equivalent of reblogging is straight-up content theft; so the idea that you can put someone else’s stuff on your page and have it not be a bad thing is a strange experience for them.
They’re likely also used to an algorithm recommending content based on what they hit “like” on, so they probably think that that’s how this works, too.
what do you mean fi1nn5ter got banned from twitch for “female presenting” tit streaming how does that even happen 😭
talk about setting records
i’m obsessed with twitch apparently hopping on the tumblr train of “female presenting tits/nipples” especially in this context. finn identifies as male but his tits don’t. apparently
i was joking
I feel its also important to know that Finns boobs are not real. He has one of those rubber breast attachments. He got banned for fake rubber boobs.
