from what i like to call the

So IDK what’s going on but everyday I’m getting like 10+ phone calls from different phone numbers that are almost identical to my actual phone number. Every number is different but they all start out with my area code and the first three digits of my number. I can’t even block the calls because it’s always different. 

Has this happened to anyone else or does anyone know what this is?

anonymous asked:

What does Jappomutt mean

LONG STORY, IM GONNA TRY TO SHORTEN IT!!!!

My dad is white and my mom is Japanese. When I was a kid, I didn’t get the fact that I wasn’t exactly white because thats what my dad told me I was.

He was a super racist dude and after a whole incident at school happened where I called two girls the N word with the hard ER (I was six, my dad is probably a KKK member, who tf knows? he’s not in my life anymore thank GOD!) and the school called my mom. She explained to me it was like when a boy from my school said “Your mom is a jab” and I kicked the shit out of him because it was wrong, making me come to the realization that my mom was Japanese, yeah I knew that, but that also made me Japanese.

Fastforward a week later and my dad and I were in a store, he called a mixed boy (black mother, white father) a mutt. I remember going home and sitting at the dining room table, staring at my parent’s wedding picture. My mom walked in and asked what I was doing,

I then asked her “Mom, am I a mutt?”

SO BASICALLY:

Jappo=I’m not gonna forget the fact I’m Asian just because my dad wanted me to (idk I also liked the O at the end its cute).

Mutt=Yep, mixed boy.

I’m a proud Japanese mixed boy and I won’t let people forget it the way I did.

I really hate woody’s roundup/the woody collective because I would understand if it was objectively bad/evil blogs (endless hate, harassment, actual illegal bullshit) but what constitutes a “terrible fucking blog that deserves to die” is really skewed on tumblr. I mean, from what I’ve observed, nucletic-asshole deactivated from that papatulus fiasco, and now they’re just kinda like “oh look because they’re now part of the woody collective they must’ve been a terrible person. Its the worst form of callout culture, for getting an old url stolen now marks you as what many take as a “nazi”, or at best a bad person.
Now they’ve devolved into typical funnyman bs where any response is hailed as godsend. Also, they made a post calling others to action so i guess as long as someone hates you for no good reason and you decide “enough tumblr for me” and you deactivate, your blog will be paraded around as a part of one of the dumbest tumblr trends of 2017.

so at work the internet was out for about an hour after I got there, and was effectively useless, so I wrote a baby programming language (I’m pretty sure it’s Turing-complete, it’s got two stacks and everything!)

Things you can do with it:

  • define functions
  • push to/pop from the stack
  • call functions
  • print stuff out (using builtin function voodoo) 
  • branching

this is what a factorial program might look like:

fact {
    br { # if the top of the stack is not equal to zero...
        . x ;     # pop into x
        1 x - ;   # push a copy and subtract 1 from it
        fact ;    # call factorial
        x * ;     # multiply whatever our factorial is by x
    }
    el { # if the top of the stack IS equal to zero...
        .;  # pop the zero off
        1;  # push a 1 (because 0! = 1)
    }
}

main {
    5 fact print; # compute 5! and print the result
}
a song Whitman taught me

up until now I’ve held
my tongue
I let you make it
I let you think you won
I let you break me
while I still tried everything

Fucking Artists
Fuck Poets
were warnings
especially to you
you should’ve
swallowed your selfishness
and read them

do you not understand
the power we wield?
do you not understand
what a blank page can build?

I fucking promise
with every thumb press
you are about to get a
fucking degree in what
happens when you break me

I drank too much
I punched those walls
I woke you up
I called you names
I attacked your flaws
pulled them out of you
like a child’s prize from
a Cracker Jack box
ripping corners
tearing the box to shreds

That’s what happens when you
break up in October
&
don’t say shit until January

I co-signed a car so you wouldn’t
walk to work
I should’ve bought you Nikes

I moved into an apartment
close to work because you
don’t like driving

I spent over an hour in traffic
each way in the fucking Texas
Sun with my A/C off because
I couldn’t afford to use the gas

I lost a fucking job of three years
because the stress of everything
stole my soul
&
you pushed me to do better
because I deserve it

so I Factotumed​ 2016 like a fucking
pinball machine, losing more bits
and pieces of myself
failure after failure
instead of being there

you were too tired to talk
too tired to go out
too tired to fuck me
at least once a week

I know your history with that
but we fucked like the last
rabbits in existence the first year

at the end it wasn’t about an orgasm
it was about a conversation over
coffee without breaking a mug
it was about a cuddle in the morning
before we had to wake up
it was about letting my mind wander
with you spiritually in search of
our purpose
the universe
Love

Your friends
Your family
You

always came first

I wasn’t even in the fucking race

I’ll never forget the day I left
for the hospital
how we fought over some stupid
shit and told me to find
a different ride
You didn’t hug me goodbye
You didn’t look me in the eye
You just walked out the door
silently thanking whatever god
keeps fucking with me there wasn’t
a loaded gun in the house

I wouldn’t be writing this if there was

Your dad took me, thanks for that bitch

I checked in, surrendered my belt
wallet and phone, fell asleep
on the admissions couch with a
rough blanket itch
&
woke up to a bracelet with my name,
birthday, and highlighted patient
number

they even took my belt
&
ziptied my khakis on the side

getting rules from nurses
unpacking poetry in my room
standing in the snack line

the kid in front of me
wound up moving downstairs
(the tenth circle if there is one)
a few days later he stabbed
another patient
in the eye
with a pencil
a fucking pencil
in the eye

I woke up at 7 to a vitals check
half asleep, usually some pretty
nurse
maybe a girl I would buy a drink
for at the bar and ask if she likes
poetry
trust me
there is no better pickup line

I walked down the hall
to the main recreation room
later on a little pretty blond
girl who carried the blessings
and curses of Bipolar II
would paint wilted flowers
&
then crush them

As fucked up as you were
as fucked up as you are
there is no better metaphor
for how I Love people

medicene brought with
muffins and eggs

group which was great
I made a sign
YOU ARE NOT ALONE
like my submission
blog you won’t read

some groups I storm out pissed
the nurse’s observed for days
finally
they told me the core of my
problem in life and anger
is the witnessed mistreatment
of people I’m close to

I just shrugged
better than the opposite

medicene brought
with green beans
and chicken

another group
one time dogs came
animal therapy is the shit

free time
I wrote in my journal
read some of Song
of Myself
read Phaedrus
I learned morality
is bullshit
even the gods
quarrel amongst
themselves about what is
right
&
wrong

I don’t think they would
argue about you

medicene came
with chicken legs
corn bread

the stress leading to this
ate my waist
so people gave me what
they couldn’t eat
so it wouldn’t go to
waste

I would stay up late
with other people like
me and we would tell
stories we will never tell
anyone else

We fucking cried
we fucking hugged
we cursed God
we begged for salvation

but that dim hallway was always
waiting for us

six and a half days
of this
and so much more
I can’t
or
won’t remember

they called me professor
because of my poetry

the nurses called me Joker
because of my
smile
&
mood swings

I was introduced to
Lithium and it reminded
me of my forfeited
baptism

I ran to phones
no one on the other line
wanted me

I kept reaching into
my pocket
wanting to check
on my people
encourage my poets
push my artists
and help my fucking
anons deal with shit
I can barely handle

I wanted my best friend
to joke with me
about shirts
about backstreet boys
about anything that wouldn’t
remind me about downshifting
into trees

she write me a fucking poem
every day
&
that’s more than you
did for me in three years

I was only in six and a half days
remember?
She wrote 7.

I found God there
he wasn’t the the sky
he wasn’t on the cross
he wasn’t in my heart

he is in my oen

caramel macchiato
drove me crazy
knotsinmysoul
stole the only reason I’m breathing
&
made me a poet

you,71
made me believe it

Lori, I remember on the post you made when you got back from your vacation. That you saw a helmet and armor similar to mine and that you could have cosplay as me. You sounded a bit disappointed so I thought I drawing you cosplaying as Forlorn Hope. As sort of a welcome back gift. Also a huge thanks to @leader-of-datlof for Doing me the kindness in digitizing (I think that’s what you call it) and coloring the picture for me. I truly hope you like it @loriloudblog.

sovinly  asked:

Ooh! Tell me a cold story?

(I … don’t know what this is. Call it an extremely condensed novel. Also, if you are looking for cold stories I would be remiss not to recommend you Rundell’s “The Wolf Wilder,” which is as good as air conditioning on a hot summer day.)

The cold, Brel sometimes thinks, moves like water. It creeps into crevices, wears slowly away at anything that tries to put up a defense against it, soaks into the weave of cloth eventually, even when it’s protected by leather or even fur. It snatches breath from throats. People drown in it.

Today, the wind is whipping through the fine veil she wears to block sun and flecks of ice both, and the rope tying her to everyone else feels stiff and too taut through her mittens. She feels like she’s pulling them all up the mountain, trudging through snow that’s only been ankle-deep for a while now because it’s too cold to snow and has been for a while.

Only the foolish or the holy travel this far up the mountain.

Or perhaps, Brel thinks, hauling hard on the rope to signal that they’re going to have to move around a rocky outcropping, the desperate.

She knows which she is.

*

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

If you could create a 6th liar what would her name be, her personality, role in the show, etc. I always wonder what the dynamics of the show would be like if there was another girl involved.

Oh gosh that’s a good question! There’s a name I use for most things – it used to be my WoW name hahaha but uhm anyway. It begins with an A so I feel like I’d use a different name because then that’s Ali, Aria and _____ :P so let’s see. Oooo okay I’ve always loved the name Ivy! I read it in a book once and I just loved it. 

So let’s call her Ivy! I don’t know what her role in the show would be aside from being the girls friends. I guess okay okay let’s see she’d for sure be openly bi and would have a crush on one of the girls. I have a weird thing, I think a lot of people do this but like, this character is obviously loosely based on me lmfao. So she’d have a history of depression but it wouldn’t be a big thing. The girls would never suspect her because she has depression, they know that’s not how mental illness works, and she’d just be chillin’ with her depression not hurting a fly because you know what sometimes that’s how depression goes. 

Also, I would have loved to see one of the girls be chubby/overweight or something. I hate the fact that all of these girls are exactly what society wants girls to be, like, Hanna was never ugly when she was fat??????????? Let! Girls! Be! Fat! Let fat girls wear cute clothes and not be the frumpy chubby girl!!!!!! COME ON PLL WYD???????????? 

ok sorry rant over uhm. I feel like she would be almost like inherited in the group lol like she was a childhood friend of Aria, like really really childhood friend, and they stayed best friends and so they ended up in the group together, Aria wouldn’t join Ali’s group without Ivy. 

And Ivy would super be into politics which helps her bond with Spencer, like they’d go to protests and marches together for sure and instead of Aria/Ezra writing a book, Ivy and Aria would write a badass sci fi book or something. Also, she’d for sure be able to wield a sword and a bow and arrow lol

WOW I’m getting carried away with this, I kind of love Ivy now even if she isn’t an actual character?

talesfromcallcenters: It goes from 0 to 100 so quickly...

I work in product support for a line of high-end fitness products. Customer calls-in, says that he has to sign into our app everytime he opens it.

That’s weird, never heard of that occurring before. I start to go over the basics, like uninstalling and reinstalling the app. Of course he’s already done all of that, “he’s a techy guy.”

Customer wants to know what updates we’ve made to the app recently. Fair question. While I am trying to look that up, customer says he heard a message about the ZipBone (name I just made up to cover for real product) while he was waiting for someone to answer.

I’m not sure what he’s referring to other than the normal prompts. Customer insists it was some kind of alert or warning, but he didn’t actually hear the whole message.

Me: I am not aware of anything at this time. I would need to call our number to hear what you’re hearing.

Him: Good. Go do that.

Me: I’m sorry I cannot call out while you’re on the line with me. We could end the call and I will call you back once I’ve heard the warning.

Customer: Can’t you transfer me to someone else?

Me: No, I can’t transfer you to another agent, but I would be happy to investigate it.

Customer: I want your supervisor.

Me: I’m afraid that’s not going to answer the question either. We haven’t received any memos about a problem with the ZipBone.

Customer: chanting supervisor over and over

Me: Okay, so you want me to transfer you to a supervisor because of the message you heard about the ZipBone? But you don’t know what that was? Is this correct?

Customer drops the call

Curious about what this message might be, I go ahead and call our 800 number.

It was, “If you have a fitness product, like the ZipBone or AppleBits, press 6.”

Also he doesn’t even have a ZipBone.

By: trixareforkiddos

I think the last episode of the Originals was like the worst one ever. I may save only the scene with Klaus whispering to Hope and Hayley comes in.

Because seriously…Klaus is once again away from his daughter? How can she have a normal life, a good life, away from a dad she loves and care for. And they didn’t know If the show was renewed so are you trying to tell me this could have been a series finale???? Seriously?

Seeing Hope calling Klaus in tears….And breaking the always and forever. What about Family above all? You spent 4 years for this, and now yeah sure another sacrifice and…Boom. Broken.

Nope. I loved this show so much, they gave me many things including Klayley but most of all Klope. But this was so bad.  Same thing like the end of s03 what’s the point?

Why Klaus can’t have his daughter in his life for more than 5 seconds? And don’t start again with they’re not good people, they don’t deserve it. No.

Klaus Mikaelson is Hope’s dad. He loves her, He is a better man because of her, and you broke this relationship again. And Again.

I don’t even know what to expect from s05. What’ a pity. I’m sad.

This could have been much much better.

Hey everyone! I’m sorry for my sudden absence, I promise I didn’t leave this blog. It slipped my mind to let you know that I’ve been traveling with my family and will be on the road for another week, right now we’re just leaving what I like to call the “no wifi zone from hell but it’s still extremely beautiful and worth it”, so I might have some time (and internet) to answer asks in the near future. I hope each and every one of you guys, gals, and nonbinary pals have had an awesome morning/day/night! 

-Sarah 

anonymous asked:

I myself am not trans, but I have a friend who is and he tells me he sometimes doesn't feel as masculine as he wants, I really want to help him out, his mom has started to get him boxers and call him by his preferred name, I want to do more for him but I don't know what I could do, any recommendations? Or what would you like to see from your friends who are trying o be supportive? Also what would be a good thing to be cautious of? Thank you for helping me ( ; ; )

One thing that makes me feel good is that my friend (and the only person I’m out to at work" ALWAYS calls me Dude because she does want to use my birth name but any use my actual name at work. Every time she says “hey dude” or something my heart does a little !!! AAAH!!! And it just makes me feel good. Also calling him handsome might help! Like when you see him say “you look really handsome”

I always just say dude/bro (or in special occasions boi) when I’m talking to any of my friends, but ESPECIALLY when I’m talking to my trans friends.

~Alexavier

harryrthorpe  asked:

Hey Bryn, love your stuff. I was wondering what your thoughts were about a particular story (possible trilogy idea) that I thought of. It's called All Are Equal and it's a dystopian sci fi (think that's the correct label haha). It follows 2 protagonists - a Slugger (sci-fi cowboy) called Awan and a Valkyrie (sci-fi samurai-esque police) called Cheveyo. Awan is travelling through desert like landscape to reach the a moving city 'shell' hunting down a murderer. Cheveyo, must protect the murderer.

Hey Harry! 

I’m flattered that you’re interested in my opinion. From what you’re described, it sounds like the sort of premise I, personally, would be interested in. I’m always game for sci-fi cowboys and samurai, deserts, and moving cities.

When considering story concepts though, you have to keep in mind a few things…

  • There is a market for every story imaginable. Some markets are certainly much bigger then others, but no matter that you want to write, you can be sure someone, somewhere will be head over heels for it. The problem is never that the market isn’t there, but that some target audiences are more difficult to dig out of the throngs of society.
  • The worth of your idea is not in the idea itself, but in how well you execute it (your final written story), and the way you present it to others (your blurbs, synopsis, and loglines). A clique concept can be used to create a fantastic, marketable book if it’s a solidly crafted portrayal of something which resonates deeply with humanity, while an inspirational concept can fail entirely if the story isn’t executed well or the author can’t find a good way to quickly convey the concept in all it’s proper glory. 

The most important thing is that you love the idea you’re writing. 

bitsandbobsoffluffandstuff  asked:

Would you be interested in Nyx/Prompto? Having a lazy day off at their apartment, cuddling and watching awful tv?

You mean, like, you’re inviting me to this? Because yeah, I’d love to go. Sounds like heaven. Send me their address and I’ll be there… Oh… oh, you mean would I be interested in writing Nyx/Prompto. Yeah, sure, I can do that too XD (sorry, I’m feeling very silly today).


“What is this shit?” Nyx asked, vaulting over the back of the sofa, landing beside Prompto without spilling a drop of beer from the bottles in his hand. He offered one to Prompto and ran his fingers lovingly over Prompto’s tight, charcoal grey leggings.

“It’s called ‘Trials of the Astrals’…” Prompto swigged his beer, adding, “Contestants have to do a bunch of challenges…”

Nyx scoffed at the ‘challenges’, throwing an arm around Prompto’s shoulders. “That’s easy… I could do that blindfold.”

“Maybe we should get the king to hold one in the citadel,” Prompto grinned. “So you can show off for me.”

Nyx snorted. “You see Regis allowing something like that to happen in the citadel?”

Prompto shrugged. “Maybe as a charity fund-raiser?”

“You’re serious?”

“I just want to see you do that,” he said, nodding at the screen and nuzzling into Nyx’ shoulder as the Glaive chuckled, kissing him.


As a thank you for reaching 150 followers, I have been writing 150 word drabbles. Requests are technically closed (as of 23rd June), but you can still send me a person or a pairing plus a word or a sentence. It just might take me a bit longer to respond now, as I’m working on other projects.

I’m gonna get a lot of hate for this but: I DONT BELIEVE KEITH KOGANE IS KOREAN.

“RAAAAACIIIIIIIIIIIST!!!!!!!!!”

Yeah yeah call me that all you want but honestly, there’s nothing that points to Keith being Korean other than his voice actor is Steven Yuen(who I love honestly! He is so awesome!)

His mom is a alien and his father looks and sounds like he is from Texas or somewhere with a heavy southern drawl. I just DONT see how he could be Korean, unless somewhere down his dads side there’s Korean in there which is possible!

But all in all I personally don’t believe Keith is Korean.

Oh! And I’m gonna keep calling Lance by Lance McClain. I don’t care what the voice actor said. I don’t care that his voice actor said he was Cuban. Unless the directors and screenwriters say other wise or back up his voice actor.

And it’s funny how easily people want to overwrite biracial characters.