deerney:

autisticstevonnie:

thatdisneyworldblog:

I think this is the most hilarious thing

the storybook font is what does it for me

Ok so I have a story. I worked Fantasyland (Dumbo) at Magic Kingdom. We had a girl transfer from Pirates of the Caribbean. And she told me the most amazing story.

So Pirates is down (shocking) And this particular boat is stopped at the first big scene, Where Barbosa is on the ship yelling for Jack Sparrow.

Anyway the boat has been stopped for about 15 minutes at this point, and there’s a couple sitting alone in the back. So the guy decides that nothing gets him in a better mood than the smell of water that hasn’t been changed in roughly 50 years, and convinces his girlfriend to blow him.

Now this girl is in the booth, along with the coordinator, watching this go down. Literally. There’s not much they can do to stop it at this point, other than notify security. Then another problem arises. The guy finishes, and the girl makes the motion to spit.

In. The. Fucking. Water.

Now if that load is released into the water, thats an automatic biohazard, and the ride is shut down for weeks. The water is removed, the ride path is scrubbed, along with the ride vehicles, and then new water is brought in. Costing the company thousands of dollara and pissed off tourists. The worst combination on this earth.

Panicking at this predicament, the coordinator grabs the mic in the control booth and says:

“Spitting is for quitters.”

This echoes over the bitching of guests and 50 year old audio of pirates commiting various crimes.

The look on this woman’s face was priceless. She gazes up, as if Walt himself commanded her from the grave, and swallows.

I’m told the ride started 5 minutes later and the couple ran out from the exit queue as fast as they could.

And this is why you dont fuck at Disney. Because cast members will call you out and it will be the highlight of our day.

back-that-sass-up:

janothar:

brainstatic:

flameblade7:

vivairi:

omega-bellum:

mikestillneedsadrink:

mod-squad-actual:

fasc-against-the-machine:

frosttoth:

thespectacularspider-girl:

thelovelymsbridget:

prideprejudce:

guys i am in TEARS

holy shit

60. Thousand. Dollars.

Do you fucking know how much 60,000 dollars is to someone like me?! Holy fucking shit.

takeaway for the guys: if she believes in psychics, dump her. Immediately. Save yourself the heartache.

It was doomed the moment he spent 5k on a fuckin engagement ring tbh.

No shit. What a fucking loon.

She is gonna spend the next two months “backpacking in South America”?

Jeeeesus

Tbh she was doomed when she thought she’d found the guy she married at 14

What a crazy bitch

oh it got better

Rewind to the top, what’s a wedding shaming group and how many can I join right this instant?

If you get the answer, please share with me

“You’re out of your mind, Susan”

your-naked-magic-oh-dear-lord:

teashoesandhair:

I actually love the ungrateful millennial trope, because I went to the V&A today and took a lot of photos of statues’ butts, and it tired me out, so I went to the café and had a cup of tea. In the V&A café, there’s a piano that customers can just use without asking, and a man sat down at it and started to play. I know nothing about music, but it sounded great to me.

At the table next to me was an old couple, probably in their late 60s, and the man kept tutting and sighing as the chap played, and I heard him mutter to his wife, “this is a [insert musty dead white composer here], there should be more MELODY,” and he just kept griping.

Now, to me, an ignorant and uncultured millennial, it just seemed super cool that we were essentially getting a free piano accompaniment to our Earl Grey, and so I stayed a while to listen, because this guy had some balls getting up there to play in front of us all, and I wanted him to feel appreciated. I also live tweeted it, and the old man kept glaring at me for being on the phone. I kid you not.

When he was done, we all (including the grumpy old man) applauded for him, and he looked really surprised. I thought I’d let him know how much I loved it, because I have terrible social anxiety and am trying to get out of my shell a bit, so I approached him and said “I know nothing about music, but I really enjoyed hearing you play,” and he BEAMED.

Turns out that he’s a concert pianist over from Toronto and we essentially got treated to a free preview of his concert tomorrow night. We chatted for a bit and then I left, and the old couple still looked really grouchy.

But hey. Ungrateful millennials!!

Trust me. Millennials have been so deprived, you can give them a free napkin and they will cry. Old people have been so spoiled that you can literally give them a free symphony and they will bitch about it. Nothing satisfies old people.

couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name:

gollageek:

couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name:

couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name:

do y’all wanna here about some ridiculous celebrity drama my family is caught up in right now because I am LAUGHING

OKAY SO I’ve mentioned on here before that my uncle owns a business that caters for a bunch of concerts (see: me almost accidentally killing Will Smith, me accidentally getting a private concert from Leslie Odom Jr, my mom eating dinner with Ed Sheeran, my cousin trying to hook up with someone who tours with Panic at the Disco, my mom getting backstage when Woody Harrelson was denied access, etc) but anyway. It’s a really successful business! He knows a ton of random celebrities, and apparently now Netflix is interested in making a docu-drama about when he toured with the Grateful Dead a million years ago???? So that’s fun.

Anyway. Upcoming is Jay-Z’s big concert on the parkway- and for years my uncle always worked it. Because he’s like, a highly recommended company and he’s Right There, so it was just natural for him to work it. But then, last year, he decided my uncle was charging too much money.

Two Things:

My uncle FAMOUSLY undercharges people!! A couple years ago, Kevin Hart did a huge comedy special for HBO and my uncle worked it- when he got the bill, Kevin Hart literally told my uncle he wasn’t charging enough money, paid what he believed to be the correct amount of money, and then tipped an obscene amount of money, leaving my uncle with like 10k more than he was expecting, and that’s the story of the time my uncle Survived The Winter

AM I SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE JAY-Z CAN’T AFFORD IT??? He’s Jay-Z! Isn’t he a billionaire! Isn’t he married to Beyoncé! He can definitely afford to feed concert performers and workers! Like dude!

But ANYWAY, he like. Proposed a lower price??? And my uncle was like “that’s enough to get maybe half a hoagie from Wawa and one can of soda for everyone working” lmao that’s how bad the price cut Jay-Z wanted was. I’ve worked for my uncle before- usually backstage there’s like an Array of main course meals, snacks, desserts, and drinks (water/soda/alcohol). Just a shit-ton of food, most of it prepared by his own company. Plenty in case people wanted second helpings. But with this proposed price drop, the best they could budget was half a sandwich and a can of soda like!!! Come on.

So he refuses to do it, so Jay-Z just…either Creates his own catering team on the spot, or used whoever he uses when he goes on tour, idk, but they agreed to that budget and my uncle moves on with life.

Except EVERYONE who worked that concert ended up complaining about the catering! lmao

So NOW he’s trying to get my uncle back this year (the concert is like…this weekend, mind you) but my uncle isn’t answering any calls because he’s currently hanging out….with Ozzy Osbourne.

They’re old friends because my uncle toured with him Back In The Day, and during most of the tour Ozzy was terrified of my uncle, because, like, the drugs made him think he was trying to steal his family or something, but by the end of the tour he had practically fallen in love with him, and when he learned my uncle was leaving he reportedly demanded “You’re LEAVING me??? Why??? Did Sharon do this?!?!?!” and listen idk they’re still friends and Ozzy’s still in love with him. Ozzy’s got a concert in the city or surrounding area right now, so my uncle’s out working that.

Now, the other thing about my uncle- remember how I said he famously under charges? Well he also famously over pays his workers, and like half of them are assholes who take advantage of that, so despite the fact he runs a hugely successful business and should be rich and with money to spare, he’s actually just…a terrible business man who is always borrowing money off people. Specifically, my mother and grandmother. Like, he’ll get a job, and then be like ‘oh shit! 5000 dollars short!’ and they have to transfer money into his account (my mom works in banking and handles pretty much the whole families money) and wait until he gets paid for the job to get the money back, it’s ridiculous. But because of this, my mom is more involved with this company than she’d like to be.

Now my uncle has this business partner, except he’s not really a partner because he refuses to let my uncle pay him, and he’s this aging hippie who I’ve never seen not high, and he may or may not live in his car, but he’s also Super Fucking Rich, but he’s not a dealer so no one knows for sure where the money is coming from, my mom went to high school with him and says he’s literally always been like this- but anyway, he ALWAYS has my uncle’s phone for some reason. You wanna call your uncle and wish him a happy birthday? Nope, it’s Victor, fuck you. Literally ALWAYS has his phone unless my uncle takes it so he can call his mother or sister for money lmao. But so that means…if the Hippie Friend needs to get in touch with my uncle….he has no way of doing that. So hippie friend, armed with my uncles Only Phone and access to his email, is getting a barrage of messages from Jay-Z’s people trying to hire him by??? fucking tomorrow??? to cater a weekend long event??? and the Aging Hippie is like ‘maybe his sister can get a hold of him!’ so he calls my mom- with my uncle’s phone- to tell her she needs to get in contact with my uncle- who does not have a phone on him right now- because Jay-Z wants to pay him money finally- ‘how will I be able to tell him that Victor’ – ‘well you can just leave a voicemail he checks those a lot’ – ‘you are using his phone Victor’ – ‘well we can hang up so you can call him’ – ‘VICTOR’-

so basically my uncle’s blowing off Jay-Z to flirt with Ozzy Osbourne, and I think that’s rather iconic of him

Man, human stories are so great!

…Gonna be real the use of ‘human’ here is a little unnerving

notlostonanadventure:

yes-sica:

team0player0:

shock:

if fallout 76 really is a world where “every character is a real person” & there’s no NPCs im making it my civic duty to be like this lowly tavern barkeep and then once i’ve established enough of a rapport i’m going to nuke all of west virginia and it will be in character

someone help where’s the screenshot of some post somewhere about the mmo player who barkept for a longass time then fucked absolutely everyone over

This one? @team0player0

This is like if Gone Girl was an MMO

piggyofoz:

songspinner9:

acreaturecalledgreed:

so heres a thing my mother always said to me growing up when i broke something on accident that i think is really important

and i know, from watching my friends and seeing their panic and terror when something broke, that not only were not nearly enough children told this thing, many children were punished in place of being reassured

and thats heartbreaking

so heres the words from my mom that i was always told, and theyre the same words that anyone who never got to hear them should hear now, courtesy of my mom, who has repeated those same words to many a friend of mine and now to you

if i ever broke anything, the first words out of her mouth would always be and have always been, “are you hurt?”

i would say no

she would say, “thats okay, then”

and i would ask why

and she would say “because it was just a thing- even if its a nice thing, or an old thing, or an expensive thing, its still just a thing. it can be replaced, or we can live without it. there is only one you. there will only ever be one you. you will always be more important than just some thing.”

I lend out a collection to fossils to my school’s 8th grade science teachers annually. I’ve collected since I was a kid, added more as an adult from yard sales and donations. I want kids to be inspired and intrigued. About my 5th year at my school, the teacher came to me with one of her students. The girl looked upset and sort of scared. The teacher explained that the girl’s hand had slipped and a Megaladon Shark’s tooth had broken into two pieces. My first response was to make sure she hadn’t been cut by one of the pieces, and she shook her head, tears in her eyes. I smiled at her and pointed out that she hadn’t dropped it on purpose, that the ridiculously big tooth had been fossilized and survived this long, and it would still be amazing if I had to either keep it in two pieces or superglue it.

It bothered me a lot that the kid was clearly primed by a lot of adults to deal with anger and blame when a simple mistake was made. I offered her a hug, which she accepted and finally laughed.

Story time:

My grandmother owns crystal bowls that have been passed down to her from her grandmother. Being a family with Jewish heritage in Austria, every single piece of family history we own is basically a treasure in itself.

I was already an adult when she allowed me to take one of them home with me, of course only after I swore several oaths to keep it safe. I can go months and years without breaking a single dish, but lo and behold, it takes two weeks and a split second of not paying attention, and suddenly that crystal bowl, that’s worth more to my grandmother than the entire rest of her furniture, goes flying and shatters into a million pieces. I swear I watched for what felt like an hour as that thing dropped, turned around itself and finally crashed in a spectacular impact. Anyway, it’s completely beyond repair, and I’m freaking out because my grandmother will murder me. Only, she will not, because even worse, she’s going to be fucking heartbroken and so, so disappointed with me she won’t even find it within herself to murder me.

But, you gotta do what you gotta do – not being able to face her while confessing, I call her, in tears, apologizing a hundred times before she finally goes: “Gigi, calm down now, what happened??”
“*sobbing* I- I broke your grandma’s bohooohooowl -”

And my grandmother, bless that woman, starts laughing hysterically. She’s laughing so much I think, I must have broken her, that’s it, she’s lost her marbles now and it’s my fault, until she wheezes out: “Gigi that bowl survived two world wars and the Nazis but not a month in your kitchen!” and of course I fucking lost it too at that point. That’s how I learned, that in the end, it’s really all about perspective.

Now I’m a step-mum myself and my go to reaction whenever I hear something break is to shrug and say ‘Well, it had a good run’ and then I go fetch a broom and we’ll clean up because if my grandma could laugh off a 100 year old crystal dish, I can laugh off an IKEA mug lmao

Don’t feel ashamed of doing “CHILDISH” things

thecreach:

tpfaulkner:

blackbearmagic:

im-pretty-bored:

•buy toys/dolls/crayons
•play with Legos
•play old videogames/dress up games
•weave friendship bracelets
•watch cartoons
•use stickers
•draw pics of your favorite characters

If it makes you feel nice, do it.
Don’t even worry about what other people think, because it doesn’t matter–if it brings you happiness, it’s not “ridiculous”, or “immature”.

You deserve to enjoy yourself.

Let me share with you what I consider to be the most important less I’ve learned in my adult life:

“Growing up doesn’t mean you can’t have Zebra Cakes. Growing up simply means that, if you want to have Zebra Cakes, you buy them for yourself.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Bear?” Well, let me explain. For those of you who live outside of the US, this is a Zebra Cake:

It’s a little pre-packaged snack cake that is horribly cheap and junky and really not that great, but it is like manna from heaven to me. I fucking love these things. When I was a little kid growing up, my mom bought Zebra Cakes but once in a blue moon. They were intended to be put in mine and my siblings’ school lunches, but my brother and I would eat them whenever we wanted, so Mom just didn’t see the point. (They also used to be kind of expensive, at least for our family’s budget.) Needless to say, the coveted Zebra Cakes were a luxury for me, and were one of the tastes of my childhood.

Fast forward to my college years. I was living in an apartment with three other people, doing my own shopping and cooking. I was in the grocery store, picking up some stuff, and I happened to walk past a display of snack cakes. Among them were several boxes of Zebra Cakes.

I paused at this, chuckling to myself. Oh man. Zebra Cakes. I haven’t had those in years. I loved those when I was a kid. I reminisced happily and thought about how much I missed the taste of Zebra Cakes, then started to walk away.

And then I stopped dead.

Because I had realized that there was literally nothing stopping me from buying a box of Zebra Cakes. There was nothing stopping me from buying ten boxes of Zebra Cakes. If I wanted Zebra Cakes, I could have goddamn Zebra Cakes, because it was my money and my decision to make.

I put two boxes in my cart (they were 2 for $5) and never looked back.

Here’s the secret I learned that day: The idea of something being “just for kids” is, by and large, bullshit. What you do on your own adult free time with your own adult money is, by its very nature, adult stuff. It’s like comedian Eddie Izzard (who frequently performed his routines in drag) once said when someone asked about him wearing ‘women’s clothes’: “They’re not women’s clothes. They’re my clothes. I bought them.”

I am 25 years old, and yesterday I bought myself a shark lunchbox. Look at it. Look at how awesome my lunchbox is.

Was this lunchbox intended to by bought for and used by a child? Yes. The tag said it was for ages 3 and up. But it was bought by and will be used by an adult, and anyone who thinks that’s wrong is probably just jealous that they don’t have the self-confidence to rock a shark lunchbox at 25.

So like. Being “mature” and “an adult” doesn’t mean you have to completely abandon the things that made you happy when you were younger. It just means that you may have to approach them in a different way.

Pay attention, there’s a lesson here

I hesitated reblogging this, and I am not entirely sure why.

peachdoxie:

animation-is-my-life:

peachdoxie:

animation-is-my-life:

animation-is-my-life:

Did I ever tell you all about the time my dad was teaching and a student climbed IN the window?

I only got like two responses on this but it’s one of my favorite stories from my dad’s classroom so buckle up.

So my dad taught junior English at a local high school, he taught on the second story of a building that was built back when schools had large windows that opened, and his windows faced the front of the building.

So one day in like April he’s teaching Moby Dick or Gone with the Wind or something with the windows open a crack to allow spring air into the classroom and one of the windows opens further and a kid climbs in through the window.

This kid, who hasn’t been at school since winter break, puts his finger to his lips. crouches for a second under the window, crawls to the classroom door, peaks out the window in the door, opens the door and slips into the hall.

He apparently then dashes down the hall, slips through the door into another junior English class (taught by my dad’s friend), where he again puts his finger to his lips, jogs across the room, climbs out the window (which faced a courtyard on the backside of the front hall) and disappears.

Turns out, the kid had been in a juvenile detention center since Christmas, escaped, and decided no one would look for him in his school. To this day I have no idea what happened after he climbed into the courtyard.

#this kid and the pie kid are my favories

Please tell about the pie kid because this story is hilarious and I want to hear about the pie kid

Ah yes, pie kid. The pie kid is legendary at the school.

So my dad’s school has faculty meetings every Teusday after school, and the teachers would all bring food (because after 7+ hours of school even teachers are hungry then they have to sit in a meeting for at least an hour talking about test scores or whatever).

So this kid, I don’t know what the motivation here was, but he would sneak into the library and take food from the meetings. Usually they just let him because, I mean, he’s not really harming anything. That just made him bolder though. One day he began taking an entire pie from the meetings.

So one day he’s sitting in the hall eating an entire pie because high school, and security took offense at this (because he was in the building after all students were supposed to leave, also he was apparently a trouble maker who security was familiar with) and this is where the story starts getting a little crazy.

Obviously, when security shows up, pie kid runs (carrying the uneaten half of his pie). This becomes a normal Teusday afternoon sight: security chasing pie kid through the halls as he’s eating pie stolen from a faculty meeting. The kid regularly found himself in odd corners of the building, including the roof, the boiler room, the field house, the magnet school behind the high school, etc. hiding from security and eating his pie.

Eventually, security caught up with him and his pie and dragged him to the principal’s office.

Now, the principal at this point is a little.. strict. He runs a tight ship.. or thinks he does.. you know those people who are VERY concerned with their world being EXTREMELY orderly and the world just stares them in the face and refuses? That was this principal’s life. He was trying to make a 2,500 student high school walk in lock step. As shown by the last story, that doesn’t happen at this school.

So the principal is alerted that pie kid, who’s been on the run from security for 2 months, is in his office with today’s pie. So the kid waits in the office finishing his pie and the principal walks in, closes the door, sits down, and says something like “what is going on?”

At this point the kid (who has finished his pie of the day) gets up, calmly walks over to the window, opens it, climbs out, hops the bushes under the window, and runs away.

That was the last anyone at the school saw him.

Well that was unexpected but a lovely tie in and that school needs to have better control of its windows.

bax16:

carnie-vorex:

fierceawakening:

callmebliss:

feynites:

minesottafatspoollegend:

i love in fantasy when its like “king galamir the mighty golden eagle and his most trusted advisor who would never betray him, gruelworm bloodeye the treacherous”

When my sister and I were kids we had this one action figure, who was actually a brutalized batman doll without his cape (the dog chewed half his head, too), who we dubbed ‘Evil Chancellor Traytor’. The idea was that in the fictional society of our toys, ‘chancellor’ just came with the word ‘evil’ in front of it, as a matter of ancient tradition. Like ‘grand’ or ‘high’ or something along those lines.

Anyway, the running gag was that the king (an old Power Rangers knock-off doll) had absolute and unwavering faith in Evil Chancellor Traytor, who basically comported himself like a mix between Grima Wormtongue and Jafar from the Aladdin movies. Everyone was always sure that Evil Chancellor Traytor had something to do with the nefarious scheme of the day. The dude even carried around a poisoned knife called ‘the kingslayer’.

The additional twist on the joke, though, was that he never was behind anything. The king was actually right. Evil Chancellor Traytor was the most devoted civil servant in the entire Action Figure Dystopia. He spent his nights working on writing up new legislature to ensure that broken toys had access to mobility devices, was always on the lookout to acquire new shoeboxes for expanding city infrastructure, and drafted a proposal that once got half the ‘settlement’ in my sister and I’s closet moved to the upper shelf so that vulnerable toys were less likely to be snatched up by the dog.

The knife, as it turned out, was as symbolic as the ‘evil’ in his name. See, Action Figure Dystopia had a long history of corrupted monarchs getting too big for their thrones and exploiting the underclasses. The job of the Evil Chancellor was to always remain vigilant, and loyally serve a good ruler – or, if the regent should became a despot, to slay them on behalf of the people.

But since killing the king would be a terrible crime, the Evil Chancellor had to be the kind of person who would willingly die to spare the people from the plight of a wicked leader; because the murder would be pinned on them, in order to keep the ‘machinery of politics’ working as smoothly as ever.

Anyway, Evil Chancellor Traytor had a diary, in which my sister I would take turns writing out the most over-the-top good shit he’d done behind the scenes. Usually after everyone else had finished talking shit about him. I don’t know why but we got the biggest kick out of being like:

Barbie With the Unfortunate Haircut: Oh that Evil Chancellor Traytor! Why can’t the king see how wicked he is?!

Charmander From the Vending Machine: Char!

Jurassic Park Toy of Jeff Goldblum With Disturbingly Realistic Face: At least if someone puts a knife in the king’s back, we’ll know where to look!

Evil Chancellor Traytor’s Diary: Today I was feeding ducks at the park when I noticed another legless action figure sitting by the benches. I put a hundred dollars into his bag while he wasn’t looking. I really need to increase budgeting to the medical treatment centers. If only we had enough glue, I think we would see far fewer toys trying to get by without limbs… *insert iconic evil laugh*

Anyway, Evil Chancellor Traytor eventually fell victim to one of my mom’s cleaning sprees, and she decided he was too busted up to keep and tossed him out. My littler brother, who tended to follow my sister and I’s games like he was watching a daily soap opera, cried so hard that we had to do a special ‘episode’ where one of the toys found the Evil Chancellor’s diary, and so he got a big huge memorial and the king threw himself into the empty grave and then ordered the toys driving the toy bulldozer to bury him so that ‘Traytor’s grave would have a body’ (this seemed very important for some reason).

And then we had the Quest For a New King. Somehow or another that ended up being a giant rubber snake called ‘Tyrant King Cobra’.

::closes tab, shuts off computer, and proceeds to have the best day ever just by knowing this exists::

i will always reblog Evil Chancellor Traytor

tbh that’s some A-grade worldbuilding and use of tropes, these kids should be hired to direct movies instead of crusty idiots like Michael Bay

@soliddreamsblog @woody112704 @advanced-procrastination @offthebeatenpathtexas @paintedcowboy

kirklanddryersheet:

gimme-da-memes-b0ss:

Bulbasaur was never the same after that day 🐉

Omg omg I got a bulbasaur at build a bear and I was kinda embarrassed about buying it for myself and stuff but there weren’t any other kids in the store or shoppers for that matter and the girl helping me said she was glad to here it was for me as she collects some plushies and has her own bulbasaur.

Well she was almost done stuffing him and then I noticed that you can put scents in your bear and fucking love cotton candy and the girl basically car salesmen style sold me on the scent pad and asked where I wanted the scent to go

And I didn’t know where it should go but she herself being quite the plushie enthusiast was like “you’re gonna hug him a lot right? may I reccomend right here” and pointed to his forehead

So I was like “awe cute yeah that sounds good” (my bulbasaur is totally stuffed mind you and I even had her make him extra firm )

and then the girl rolls up her sleeves and was like “alright bulbasaur! Here we go! I apologize in advance but this is gonna look very inappropriate!”

And she fisted my super full bulbasaur all the way to her elbow saying sorry to him and to me over and over again. It took her several tries to get the scent pad in place since my bulbasaur was so stuffed and she looked like she was straining and saying “I don’t know why they didn’t think about this design more, so many parents are gonna complain about this one day, I know it”

So all in all this was the best build a bear experience I’ve had since I was a little kid and I love my fat, cotton candy scented, anally inclined bulbasaur to pieces

Source: gimme-da-memes-b0ss