Sherlock Holmes (via mocawafflez)

I found love where it wasn’t suppose to be.

No wayyy

i think they only give us 3 episodes every couple of years because they know we couldn’t handle any more than that

look at us… 

#finding out lindsey doesn’t have a twin is on my list of top 5 traumatic childhood events

#honestly i dont care if its fake

It’s not. It happens every day all around the world.

what if i ordered pizza in the middle of the hurricane.

they yelled at me.

I think I’m not the only one feeling this weird trapped feeling today, feeling sick and overwhelmed but unable to stop reading, reblogging. Trying to understand when there is nothing to understand.

I live in the middle of it. 19 people died in front of the bar I go drinking twice a week, and my friend the barmaid was hidden behind the bar for two hours. One of my best friend lives rue Bichat and heard the gunfire from his window. I know a family trapped in stade de France. I should have been drinking in Republique at 8PM yesterday, where they started shooting.

Yeah I get it. We are freaking out.

But please, stop spreading only the bad stuff. Stop the pictures and videos of bodies in the street, of yelling and blood. Stop talking about refugee’s hate, and islamophobia.

Talk more about the people that yelled in the street the number of the code to their flat when victims where running everywhere to bring them to safety. The man that opened the window of his flat to victims of the Bataclan stranded on the roof.

Talk about the man that went back to help a stranger pregnant woman, and the kid that was carried to safety by a total stranger worried he could be trampled by the crowd.

Talk about the social media, the hashtag #porteouverte to get people out of the street and #voyageavecmoi to help people afraid to travel alone because of their religion/skin color.

Talk about the taxis that stayed in the street, bringing people home for free all night, and the bus drivers that helped evacuate the Bataclan.

The people crowding the blood centers, so much that Paris now has to send them back home.

The people in their home, terrified and in shock, and only waiting for the possibility to crowd the street and show them that we are afraid but not broken, and together.

There are handfuls of people that will take out of this tragedy all the bad lessons, the wrong evidences.

But please don’t talk about them. Talk about the fraternity and the love of the scared, scarred, ones in Paris. Because we are so many, and we won’t give up

good responses to being stabbed with a sword (part 2)

honorable mentions

One time I used my retail voice on a coworker and she was like, “Don’t use your customer voice on me, I know you’re dead inside like the rest of us, it’s just frightening and weird”

The other day I asked for a table for two in my customer voice and the waitress squinted at me and I cleared my throat and said “Sorry, still in service mode” and she dropped hers and we swapped stories about our day and my boyfriend was like “You two just became two entirely different people in like .5 seconds…”

I can be bitching up a blue streak about a customer-from-hell while the store is empty, and when the phone rings swap over to my retail voice practically in mid-sentence. I even have managers and salespeople from other stores in the chain fooled into thinking I’m infinitely friendly and helpful, and my manager’s husband thinks I’m one of the most professional people in the store. One assistant manager’s daughter dubbed me Perky-Pants because she mostly dealt with me over the phone, and was shocked to the core when I dropped an F-bomb at her graduation picnic.

The acting required in the service industry is beyond the pale. My cousin freaked out when she came to see me at work because I was all smiling and nice while helping someone who was asking inane questions and who basically forced me to walk them to the product and put it in their fucking hand but I was nice as pie until I turned around to walk away and my demeanor changed back to normal and I muttered “what a fucking moron” under my breath as I got back to my cousin. She just looked at me shocked and said “no wonder you’re so exhausted when you get home.” 

this is actually referred to as emotional labor in criminology, and is considered one of the hardest forms of labor

The art of bullshit is strong in the service industry 

The art of bullshitting to be the nicest and friendliest person on the planet made me make +200€ in tips when I worked as a waitress just during the weekend. 

http://iglovequotes.net/

I’m so mad that Donald trump is real

I heard someone swear “you mother fuck!” over the phone the other day, and all I could think of was this

when its sunday 11pm and u remember u had homework

I'd care if the person I reblogged this from committed suicide.

Reblog this from anybody. literally. ANYBODY. even if you dont like them or even know them that well. YOU COULD SAVE THEIR LIFE.

I’ve been doing a lot of Acapella videos lately so here is I Write Sins Not Tragedies by Panic! At The Disco

<3

“ur cute”

“no ur cute”

*gets out knife* “NO UR CUTE”

i wish that there were more hours in a day and boys were nice and bread didnt make you fat