adulthoodisokay:

serotonical:

buzzfeed:

BREAKING NEWS

I can see it now: KAIJU:ORIGINS

NOW ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS MUTANT RUSSIAN SPACE GECKOS BECOMING SENTIENT AND FINDING A WAY TO BREAK INTO A NEW DIMENSION AND FURTHER EVOLVING AND THEN COMING BACK TO EARTH AS KAIJUS WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

Okay, so you’re a scientist working for the Qe’druk global government in Sector 57. A mining drone was sent from collecting minerals in asteroids to investigate an unknown spacecraft. It tethered the craft and brought it to your little laboratory in the hinterlands of the empire. All precautions are taken with the finely crafted object. Security officers in thick, synthetic garb surround you with various plasma weapons ready to respond to any threats. You open a small hatch.

Inside, there are bunches of little lizards fucking.

Your life’s work, and all the work of your mighty empire seem to be a joke as you — and everyone in the room — realize that these little slimy bastards have mastered space travel. While fucking.

(Reblogged from tymethiefslongerthoughts)

cloudya:

My dad was arrested a few months ago.

That’s hard to say. It’s even harder to believe.

Out of the blue, some cops showed up at my dad’s door and told him someone had accused him of theft and assault. My dad was locked up. He was subjected to a full body search and put in a jail cell. He had to spend the night there while my family scrambled to make bail.

But here’s the thing: my dad was working at the time of the alleged crime. He’s a delivery person for a pharmaceutical company. He has his clients’ signatures and paperwork, as well as their verbal confirmations that they saw him, as evidence to back him up. He has his cell phone triangulation data which puts him nowhere near the alleged victim. Moreover, my dad is not a criminal. He’s not violent. He’s 65 years old. He’s a freaking vegan.

None of this matters. All you need in order to be arrested is an accusation. The police didn’t check my dad’s whereabouts or look into the feasibility of the accuser’s story. They didn’t care. The reality of the justice system is that you are guilty until you can prove yourself innocent.

And good luck with that because it’s going to cost you.  Bail fees, attorney fees, court fees – my dad has had to deal with all of them. And then, to make matters worse, his company fired him because he now has an arrest record.

What about the accuser?  It has since surfaced that he’s acquainted with of one of the men on my dad’s delivery route. This man was angry because my dad refused to leave deliveries on without obtaining a signature. My dad refused to do this because it’s against the law. He is required to get a signature. So this man concocted a way to teach my dad a lesson. He supplied his friend with my dad’s name and description, and he got him to tell a lie. A lie that has cost my dad his job, his savings, and his pride. A lie that is still hanging over him as court dates get pushed back and back and back.

The evidence is with my dad.  His case is open and shut. He is innocent. Unfortunately, prosecutors keep asking for and receiving more time to prepare. This has now dragged on for over 7 months. Until he gets his hearing, my dad is unable to work. He has to pay his lawyer’s retainer. He has to pay the mortgage. He has to make ends meet.

My dad has paid over $14,000 in legal fees. Now he’s unemployed and still owes upwards of $7500. My brother and I have given him everything we have. And still, the costs keep piling up. We are drowning.

I’ve started a fund to raise money for my dad. If you can donate just one dollar or two, it would help us out so much. If you can’t, please consider reblogging? Anything you can do – anything at all – would be incredibly appreciated.

The truth is that this isn’t the kind of thing you want to share with the world.  I don’t want to stand, hat-in-hand, before my friends and say, “help me.” But I have to. For my dad, who taught me that we do whatever we can to help the ones we love. He has always, always fought for me. So it’s my turn to fight for him.

(Reblogged from stereoforbrains)
Possible. But requires multiple sessions, and probably paying a lot of money because the skill required is not common. Worth the funds if you are paying a good artist. Do lots of investigation. LOTS.

I’ve been scouring portfolios for artists who have abnormally clear and crisp lines, but I’m not sure what other skills I should be looking for. Cost isn’t an issue—if I’m getting one piece of work, I want it perfect. I think I’d spend up to about a thousand (not sure if that’s a realistic figure for the work that would need to be done) if it’s done right.

I’ve thought that maybe the watercolor type artists may be the best bet, but I don’t know. 

For people with an intimate knowledge of tattoos

how hard would it be for an artist to pull of a pattern like this in a clean and beautiful manner? (band around upper forearm)

cwj replied to your post:Besides Outright Firing
Send out an email to everyone announcing the cctv system that was installed in the room last week.

Ha! I actually thought about starting a rumor that the security camera guys are coming.

Something like: “Guys, some security camera guys are coming in today to fix some playback issues we’ve been having on the stored indoor camera feed. If you see them can you let me know? I need to show them where to find the recording server.”

I would have to put up that old passive-aggressive stand-by “your mother doesn’t work here” sign that says “clean up your own wet spot”

I just hope they didn’t use my end of the conference table…I bet they did…So many Lysol wipes are going to be used.

Make sure you’re doing a crossword puzzle, ask them each to come in and tell them you’re looking for a 10-letter word that rhymes with “buck-stain”.

"9 letters…_exat_ork…rexatfork? That can’t be right, guys…can it? rexatwork? Hmmmm…"

um… give them both high fives? Man idk tell them they have to sanitize the room of all their love juices and that next time they have to tape the act for your benefit

Or post it to YouPorn. A sensible and wise man, that Ianbrooks.

Without ever mentioning them by name, give a presentation for the team showing a selection of prohibited office activities, accompanied by illustrations that show them as the offenders.

And just edit the faces and photoshop on his arm tattoo.

The Monday morning meeting could be LEGENDARY.

sit them down. Tell them you are watching now and so is everyone else and they all know and if it happens again, fire them. But let them know they are under the gun.

This is the likely outcome, but I would like to get creative in letting them know I know without letting them outright know I know.

I was thinking of handing them cleaning products and having them clean the conference room because I noticed a putrid smell. Something along those lines, maybe.

Would they be ashamed if people knew? I’d keep intentionally and publicly throwing them together to do things in a very obnoxious manner.

The girl would be, I believe. I would never want to shame a woman publicly. It’s not in my nature.*

*my grandfather was born in 1880, if that gives you an idea as to my outlook on those things—although I view the sexes as equal, I tend to protect women as much as I can from ridicule or gossip. Guys? Well, we need to be shamed sometimes. We tend to be cunts.

Besides Outright Firing

What is the best way to punish two employees who fucked in the conference room?

(An impeccable informant gave me word today. It happened last night.)

old tumblr fuckers where you at?

making-stuff:

killaguhrilla:

vasolinejesus:

soulsistrin:

mrsock:

prettypurplepancake:

moobadoo:

only20seconds:

randomkeith:

miladapted:

curiouslyhigh:

30+ let’s do this shit

32 holla!

34,

35 in December.

Fucking pups. 44.

41

Ha ha fuckers

Oh my god. You’re all BABIES. 50 here.  FIVE OHHHHHH.

Born in 1975. Do the math kids.

1973.

1972

Todd and I are the same age. I find that amusing.

Oh, you kids! 57
Now get off my fucking lawn.

Todd and Killa’s age.

(Reblogged from making-stuff)

Thank you, France

America, fuck yeah!

slappnuttz:

He’s such an arrogant SOB, and I love it.

I met someone named Ragnar today. I asked if he had a son named Ivar. He didn’t, but he winked and went on talking in the singsong Swedish manner while I daydreamed about going viking. I snapped back to reality when I thought about the stench of wearing the same clothes for weeks upon weeks. People have traded their dreams of freedom for less than clean clothes. I’ve traded dreams for less. I’m not ashamed.

(Source: sikanapanele)

(Reblogged from slappnuttz)