anarchetypal:

so i’m riding the elevator up to my apartment when the emergency phone in the elevator starts ringing 

and i just stand there for a second because this thing is like thirty years old and has never rung or even been used from what i know

but eventually i answer it thinking maybe something’s wrong with the elevator?? it’s an emergency phone it’s probably an emergency??? i dunno

except i shit you not it’s a telemarketer 

a telemarketer that’s as confused as i am when i finally interrupt him mid-spiel to inform him he has the wrong number and then interrupt him again to explain further that “uh, no, seriously, this is an elevator phone. i’m standing in an elevator. talking to you. on the emergency phone. i really think you got the wrong number”

“oh,” says telemarketer guy.

“yeah,” i say.

there’s some mutually-confused silence.

“so, this is my stop,” i say. “i gotta go.”

“oh,” says telemarketer guy.

“good luck,” i add, because telemarketer guy seems like he’s having an existential crisis. and then i hang up on him, because he’s having an existential crisis and won’t actually end the call, and because again i’m talking on an elevator emergency phone and, you know, this is my stop, i gotta go.

hipstersandcomics:

I used to get mad when men would make jokes about how women’s periods make them irrational, but now I just remember that during Victorian times, a table’s legs were thought to arouse men so they invented table cloths to cover them up so men wouldn’t get erections during dinner

I might cry for no reason but at least I’ve never gotten a BONER for a fucking TABLE

According to the Notes this isn’t really true, but it’s a funny post, so I’m reblogging

omny87:

Beat our guest, beat our guest, Slam a bat into their chest

Stuff a rock into a sock and turn their face into a mess

Break their arms, break their face, pop a socket out of place

unleash all the hidden fury you’ve suppressed!

They’ll find it hard to plead, when they profusely bleed

all down their vest-

I don’t jest!

They’re too toothless to protest!

Beat our guest, beat our guest, beat our guest!

dreamerinsilico:

derinthemadscientist:

hipsterkittypostingteenybopper:

Re: Purge.

If everything was legal for like twenty-four hours I’d start a communal garden.

This is barely even hyperbole.

I would legit start a communal garden with whoever wanted to join me.

I think that would be fucking dope.

Rewrite of The Purge where, for 24 hours, people hurriedly complete all those renovations and projects that the council forbids. Helen, leader of the PTA, laughs maniacally as she tears grass from her lawn with a pitchfork, her thirteen-year-old daughter Emily’s arms red with mud as she wades through the carnage, planting thyme. Jack and Mitch have left their friendly smiles behind at the RSL; today their faces show only grim determination as they methodically shovel gravel into potholes and pour bitumen. The local biker gang, gathered on the corner, are the most rambunctious of the mischief-makers, whooping and hollering as nail guns are driven into plywood, assembling miniature by-the-road shelters for the homeless to rest on cold nights. Their noise covers the sounds of Katy and Sam moving from street to street with their trolleys, picking up unsold or unwanted food from houses and restaurants to give to the hungry without fear of taxation or food safety reprisals. They’re young, and still scared of being caught.

But there’s no one to catch them. Not tonight. 

…You know you live in a dystopian capitalist hellscape when….

mrgulogulo:

d1rtypaws:

d1rtypaws:

I hate that the Dairy Queen cashiers have to flip your blizzard upside down before giving it to you. I hate it. I know it’s most likely going to stay in it’s cup and I know I get a free one if it doesn’t, but the cocktail of a potential disaster and the cashier apologizing to what is most definitely a horrified me, having to sit in a drive-thru while someone behind me just bore witness to my fucking salted caramel blondie blizzard splattering on the asphalt, melting away while they mix me another one and i pray to god that they don’t flip it upside down again, is just a stress that I find entirely unnecessary. I trust it’s thick, just give me your word and i’ll be on my merry way.

I just imagined how it would feel to have them flip your second blizzard and have it spill too and I felt my shoulders physically tense

I’ve only been to DQ like 3 times in my life but the 2nd time I ordered a milkshake or something and I heard about DQ drinks not spilling when you flip them. I was not aware that this ability was only relegated to their blizzards. So long story short I said “hey, look at this” to my family and they watched me pour my milkshake on the ground.