whenever a young kid joins our staff at work im just like huh. guess im a father now.
these kids will be like “can you drive me home? i don’t have gas money but-” and im already pullin out my keys and am like. sweetheart, you are a child. i am not charging a child gas money.
i literally almost lunged across the counter to throw hands with some old hag who yelled at and insulted one of our 16 y/o girls but instead i threw her sandwich at her and told her to never fucking come back
old dudes will flirt with our young girls too and i’ll be like ay man this is a truck stop, normal customer service rules dont apply here. i can and will call the cops on you.
im the only manager that actively tells them to steal food because these are teenagers and they are HUNGRY
Losers Didn’t Actually Read Frankenstein, Write an Article About It Anyway, More at 11
This article was written by one of the townspeople
So I often google the articles I see in these ridiculous tweets to see if they are satire. They are getting less likely to be satire.
However, the below article is an important addition to the above tweet. It is a response to the Flakenstein article.
The basis of it can be summed up with this quote from it
“This is not a story about being too thick to understand a 200-year-old
book. No, just as Mary Shelley’s novel was a meditation on humanity
dressed up as a horror story, this Sun piece is purely an ideological
prejudice dressed up as a cultural phenomenon. It’s about poking fun at
millennials, at the brittle snowflake generation who are the beloved
target of the balls-out, men’s men of the right. Ha ha, it’s saying. Look at the simpering liberal softies! They feel sorry for the big, bad murderous monster.“
So while the subeditor who wrote the headline could maybe have tried a little harder, the story itself is vintage Sun, akin to their discredited claim in 2003 that asylum seekers were catching swans from London’s parks and eating them. Don’t pity the asylum seekers who might be starving, have a go at them for eating our swans. They belong to the Queen, you know!
Because emphathy has no place in today’s world and as long as complete misinformation sells …
if you want to ask a bisexual or asexual person about their sexual history to verify that they’re queer, but you don’t want them to take it the wrong way, try this useful communication technique:
give them twenty dollars and go away.
As a bi person, I can attest to the beneficiality of this method.
As an ace i second that^
if twenty dollars doesn’t work for you then forty dollars is also fine
In honor of Black Cat Appreciation Day, here’s one of the first pictures I ever took of my sweet boy. He was rescued from the side of the road with a broken tail. When no one claimed him, I kept him as my own and he is the SWEETEST thing.
Me, a humble draugr, quietly minding my own business in my barrow tomb, doing my daily chores (lighting the candles, taking the frostbite spider for a walk, making the large swinging axes swing in the corridor of large swinging axes), having a sleepover with the lads in the deathlord’s chamber
YOU, loud, alive, obnoxious, barging into our tomb eating an entire wheel of cheese, making a mess, plundering my life savings from my burial urn, setting fire to frosty (the frostbite spider), re-killing me and the lads, WAKING the deathlord
Urocyon's Jaunts 2.0 
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