good job everyone
we’re doing great guys keep it up
we’re doing amazing sweeties
We are doing fucking amazing
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
The Stonewall Inn
Game of Thrones Daily
Jules of Nature
Noah Kahan
untitled
Fai_Ryy
The Bowery Presents
RMH
Cosimo Galluzzi
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
occasionally subtle
Misplaced Lens Cap
Claire Keane
KIROKAZE

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
$LAYYYTER

PR's Tumblrdome

oozey mess

seen from India

seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Finland
seen from Nigeria
seen from Türkiye

seen from India

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Pakistan
seen from Jordan
seen from Colombia

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Côte d’Ivoire
@starcrossed--loser
good job everyone
we’re doing great guys keep it up
we’re doing amazing sweeties
We are doing fucking amazing

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Mike, will, Dustin, max, eleven, and Lucas: *playing d&d*
Steve: *walks in*
Mike: what are you doing here
Steve: just checking on you guys making sure your not being eaten by demogorgons
Mike: how did you even get in my parents aren’t even home
Dustin: I gave him a key for emergencies
Mike: why???
Dustin: he’s steve
all of my fellow introverts and old souls, please remember that there is no shame in:
not enjoying parties
preferring a relaxed conversation to a big social gathering
not drinking or smoking
thinking a lot
listening instead of talking
not seeing the point in skipping classes
needing time to yourself
Rian Johnson just did the Star Wars movie franchise a big favor…
He pulled the cinematic SW universe of the strict Light/Dark dichotomy. I think that’s what ant*s don’t get. This whole movie is about what’s in between, and about looking beneath the tired tropes. The Men aren’t so Heroic and Strong and All-Wise (luke, poe), those in the Light aren’t so Good and Pure (Luke, Rey), and The Dark isn’t so Evil (kylo ren).
The arms dealers are a great metaphor for it. They’re playing both sides. AND THEY’RE ALL WEARING BLACK AND WHITE, DAMMNIT.
Ant*s, my dudes, what you’re wanting is to go back to fairytale land. But honestly, not even JJ can put the gray genie back in the bottle
Sadie Sink © photographed by Ashley Batz for Bustle Magazine

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hey american followers
canadians reblogged fcc & net neutrality stuff for you so you had access to information - can you lend a hand and help us now?
Context (please share this post!):
Bell, Cineplex, Rogers and Shaw are trying to censor the internet and force the end of net neutrality in Canada.
to whoever screamed the longest “J-HOPE” ever in the AMA audience, you did amazing sweetie <3
how have you been?
Update:
LMFDLAO VBNJKDFXVCG
Be seeing double before the beating even starts
😂😂😂😂😂
hey tumblr,,, i know it’s not as big of a deal to you because it’s not america,,, but canada is having a net neutrality battle too
I think we’d all really appreciate if you signal boost content that explains all of this. We need help! There are more people in California than in all of Canada, but we still need to fight off big corporations like Bell, Shaw, Rogers, Telus and Cineplex, who are trying to steal our net neutrality. The likelihood that this goes through has nothing to do with it, we need to show our government that THIS ISN’T OKAY. THAT WE CARE ABOUT OUR NET NEUTRALITY! C'MON!

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Chadwick Boseman for Hunger Magazine (2017)
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
Bad parents who are like, “Don’t tell me how to raise my child,” when their actions are flagrant are the absolute worst. Like the ability to produce a tiny human suddenly makes you knowledgeable of how to raise one in a safe and healthy environment. I forgot that Jesus sends knowledge rays down from heaven to share the secrets of life with you upon conception. To me, the inability to accept criticism of your choices is a sign of a bad parent. Not a single person knows everything about raising children. So is the idea of ownership over a child, and the insistence that their willingness to parrot your values is proof that they consent to them willingly. Just wow. Sometimes I feel so bad for so many children.
Ghost Han: Okay kid you can do this.
Kylo Ren: *to Rey* You're nothing.
Ghost Han: Okay, what the fuck.

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I hate when people say “but they gave birth to you/raised you” as if that is an automatic reason to love your parents.
Some parents are downright scum. Some are horrible human beings. Some scar their children so badly that they never recover.
And you’re telling me that I, a survivor of serious child abuse should be thankful that my parents let me continue to live. Like that’s all they need to do for me to kiss their asses and love them unconditionally.
No. Parents have to earn the respect of a child just as much as a child has to eventually earn it from everyone else.
Do not assume off the bat that all parents are good ones.
Many parents of this new generation of adults have turned out otherwise.