!!ATTENTION TO ALL MY LITTLE THIEVES!!! sells lift kits! i repeat, sells bundles of lift kits to make your shoplifting experience even better! i bought one of these and i can’t wait for it to come in the mail - it’ll come way more faster than your standard hook and magnet from aliexpress and i GUARANTEE that you’ll get away with lifting at a much cleaner rate if you use this bad boy. can’t wait to try it out and lift some cute stuff with it~

want to commit felonies but don’t want to wait for your shipment from china?? then stop by now and pick up these snazzy lift kits - like what i did!

happy lifting! ❤️

maramcgregor  asked:

Bitty spends so much of the year alone. Kent Parson suggests he adopts a pet. He may strongly suggest a cat. One may (or may not) show up.

“I’m not really a cat person.”

Kent gapes at the camera like Eric just backhanded him from three states away.

“I’m sorry, have I dropped into some parallel universe where you’re suddenly a shitty person? Everyone likes cats.”

“I don’t know why I’m just more of a dog guy. Maybe I’ll get a puppy or something when the season winds down.”

“It’s like I don’t even know you,” Kent laments, lifting Kit up to the screen. “How can you say no to this?”

“She is pretty cute,” Eric sighs and waggles his fingers so Kit bats at Kent’s laptop screen. “But just not for me, you know?”

“No, I don’t know, traitor.” Kent lowers Kit and frowns at Eric. “I’m judging you. Cats are the best. Dogs can’t take care of themselves when you’re away.”

“Says the man with a cat nanny for overnight trips.”

“Kit has a very specific diet, okay? She needs special attention.”

“I’m not getting a cat,” Eric says, final. 

Kent huffs. “Fine. Next best option: billet a rookie. They’re basically pets: you get to feed them and take them for walks and dress them in little outfits. They’re helpless. You’ll love it.”

So I work at a car dealership, in the internet sales department. Which is all fine and dandy, but I’m a woman, so when people call in, it…

Basically, any man who calls in immediately assumes I’m a receptionist, despite our numbers going straight to the department you call – you only get the front desk if you ask for the operator, or you’re transferred to them from a department.

But that’s not even what irritates me.

It’s when I have conversations with men who say “I’d like to speak to a sales person,” to which I respond with, I’m in sales, how can I help you? And they go on to say “id like to talk to a salesman.” And I repeat myself. And they finally say, “No. A sales MAN.”

Which, they all seems to assume sales men are going to know more but they’re wrong. I’ve worked here three years, and dealerships have such a high turnover rate that any man downstairs you talk to will know. A FRACTION of what I know about whatever you have to ask. Want a quote? Too bad because they don’t know how to quote you. Have a question about what trim comes with heated and ventilated seats? Too bad because these dumb asses barely know their own names because car dealerships will hire literally anybody in sales.

and then when these dickheads can’t get a hold of a sales man because those dickheads don’t even know how to answer a phone – or to nobodies surprise, can’t answer their question – they call back to the main number and ask to speak to a manager. Who will not take their call, and will inevitably send them to voicemail because they’re busy with actual customers who aren’t just trying to get people who are busy to answer questions they can easily google, or to make stupid ass offers like $10k drive out on a car listed for $15k plus tax, title and licensing.

Basically – I promise you. If you call a dealership and I answer I will be able to answer your dumb ass questions quicker and with more knowledge than any of the sales MEN you so desperately want to talk to.

This is isn’t 1955 guys. Women know about cars too, we’re not just here to transfer you to a man.

And when you do, inevitably, have to talk to me, don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot. Yes I know what fox shocks are, I even know what the cost for front and rear are. Yes I know about the lift kits. Yes I know about tires, no these are not aluminum. Yes I can tell you the tiny percent. Yes I can tell you the history on that car.

Yes I can check he fucking availability on that preowned vehicle it will literally take me thirty seconds because I can go into my computer whereas the salesmen will literally get your info, go to the key room, and call you back in an hour. At most, it’ll take me 5minutes to get an anyanswer – even to something I don’t know.

I work here for a reason. And it’s not to transfer you to a dude because you think as a woman I’m less likely to know about cars.

Three years. I know some shit. Most of the salesmen? They’ve been here three months and already on their way out.

kittrook  asked:

heLLO! I'm just wondering... is there a possibly that you can cook up some one shot that features kit, ty and a swan?


it was a hot afternoon in california, and kit couldn’t see. not because of the blinding sun (blinding son haha), but because ty was covering kit’s eyes as they walked outside. 

“so… where exactly are we going?” asked kit.

ty smiled and kissed the back of kit’s head, where he stood behind him, each hand covering one eye. “that you will find out shortly.”

“i swear, if you and livvy planned something-”

ty sighed, “we didn’t! i promise.” 

kit placed his hands on top of ty’s slender fingers as they continued to walk, until they stopped. ty removed his hands and kit saw a picnic before him- a blanket with a bunch of desserts and drinks on top of it. kit turned to face ty, who was smiling nervously. 

“do you like it?” asked ty anxiously, opening and closing his hands. 

kit took ty’s face in his hands and gave him a kiss of reassurance. “i love it. i love you.” 

ty smiled in relaxation and kissed kit, who gasped because it was so sudden. kit took a step back during the kiss, pulling ty’s shirt so he could be closer, but of course, kit slipped on the blanket, falling back onto it, pulling ty down with him. ty fell on top of kit, and kit grinned, kissing ty again. 

as things started to get heated, kit heard a noise while ty’s face was buried in his neck, a noise that ignited something bad in his stomach. kit kept hearing it and became distracted, making ty stop. he lifted his head above kit, lips puffy and hair messy, a purple mark forming on his collar bone underneath his grey shirt. “what’s wrong?” his grey eyes were concerned.

“i, uh… i just heard something. sorry.” the sound sounded again. kit looked around, not getting a good view because he was stuck on his back. ty looked around into the lake. 

“you mean that swan?” asked ty, pointing to the water. he looked excited to see an animal.

kit shot up. “it’s a fucking swan?” ty tumbled back. 

ty beckoned the swan forward, tossing it bread. it swam closer to the shore and kit shrieked. “fuck no!” he got up and ran a few feet away. ty looked at kit curiously as he walked next to him. “you don’t like swans?” 

kit shook his head, staring at the white bird with a weirdly long neck. 

ty laughed. “you’re such a herondale.”

“what does that mean?”

“one of your ancestors, will herondale, he was terrified of ducks. jem carstairs told us. they used to be parabatai.”

“ducks give me cold feet, too.” 

“but swans are pretty,” argued ty, tossing it some more bread. 

“i’m prettier,” replied kit, chin up as he turned and walked back to the institute. “not today, satan!”

Camp Mockingjay - Ch 2

We asked, you voted, and now Katniss and Gale are on their way to Camp Mockingjay! So, here it is, the next installment of our story, brought to you by @burkygirl. You have 48 hours to vote on the direction of the next chapter of the story. Remember: vote in the comments, not in the tags! And don’t forget to spread the word by reblogging. The more fans playing this game, the more fun it will be.

Originally posted by byensflyttefirma-blog

The fuzzy blue dice I bought for Gale’s 16th birthday sway back and forth from the rearview mirror. We’re bumping along the dirt road that leads to Camp Mockingjay in his father’s old ‘89 Silverado, a plume of dust billowing in the air behind us. Gale’s shiny black baby is going to have a grimy film all over it. I’m still not sure I should have agreed to this, but after a whole day of driving, I can’t wait to arrive and get out of this truck.

From a hilltop we spot the camp nestled in the valley below, hugging the shore of Lake Panem. There’s a clutch of 12 cabins in the woods and a mess hall near the beach. I see sports fields, a dock and smaller buildings scattered about. It’s either a kid’s paradise or my slice of hell. I can’t decide.

Gale gives a low whistle from the other side of the bench seat. “Check it out, Catnip. Just think, on our nights off we can canoe on the lake, go for long walks in the woods, take the truck into town to catch a movie. We’ll get to spend the whole summer together. Plus, we get free room and board. It’s gonna be sweet!”

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