Icon by @ThatSpookyAgent. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. BlueSky: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. The X-Files. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.

meggannn:

whisperingtoghosts:

looselipssinksubs:

twerkfred:

iggyzhong:

twerkfred:

psa

if an english person says anything about tea/having tea/having someone round for tea

it does not mean they will literally be drinking tea

tea means dinner

we mean we are having dinner

ARE YOU SRS

YES

so then how do you invite someone for tea. with tea and scones and jam and stuff. that kind of tea. how are you supposed to phrase that?

“do you want to come over for a cuppa”

SOMEONE FINALLY DID IT

bpd-hawke:

Here’s your daily reminder to not be an asshole to people whose genders are influenced by their neurodivergencies.

fartgallery:

fartgallery:

oh god I have a terrible pun and I’m trying to keep myself from posting it but I don’t think I can stop myself

scientists have almost completed building a sex robot but they’re still working out its kinks

“The first time it was an ear, nose and throat doctor. I had an emergency visit for an ear infection, which was causing a level of pain I hadn’t experienced since giving birth. He looked at the list of drugs I was taking for my bipolar disorder and closed my chart.
“I don’t feel comfortable prescribing anything,” he said. “Not with everything else you’re on.” He said it was probably safe to take Tylenol and politely but firmly indicated it was time for me to go. The next day my eardrum ruptured and I was left with minor but permanent hearing loss.
Another time I was lying on the examining table when a gastroenterologist I was seeing for the first time looked at my list of drugs and shook her finger in my face. “You better get yourself together psychologically,” she said, “or your stomach is never going to get any better.”
If you met me, you’d never know I was mentally ill. In fact, I’ve gone through most of my adult life without anyone ever knowing — except when I’ve had to reveal it to a doctor. And that revelation changes everything. It wipes clean the rest of my résumé, my education, my accomplishments, reduces me to a diagnosis.”

— When Doctors Discriminate - NYTimes.com (via brutereason)

cannibalcoalition:

castielcampbell:

danielkanhai:

i hate when customers at work hand me a 100 dollar bill and then scoff when i check the watermark. like, lady, i will break out the counterfeit pen. i’ll draw your god damn portrait over benjamin franklin’s before i make a ruling. i’ll get a second opinion from a coworker on the opposite side of the store. i’ll call the mint like, “heyy…it’s daniel…you guys print any hundreds lately? i got a lady here with a hundred, just making sure it’s one of yours…haha cool just checking. so how are the wife and kids?” the people that make a fuss are always like, obviously rich too and you know that’s why they have a problem. like the nerve of me to doubt a rich person’s money. how dare i lump them in with a normal person with a hundred dollar bill. eventually one of them is going to let it slip. i’ll take the bill from them and go to hold it up to the light or feel it between my fingers or something and they’ll laugh and go, “oh, no, no no no i’m wealthy.”

i had a co-worker catch a counterfeiter. back then we all had “truth teller” pens. and the rule was “anything over a ten gets checked if you’re not comfortable with it” but not everyone did it. but this girl was hard core about her pen. especially if she got a bad feeling from a customer. girlfriend had TWO truth teller pens in case one gave a false positive.

this couple come through her line with a lot of stuff and they acting like they are in a hurry. this was the wrong thing to say to this girl. you say that to her and she goes slower cause it freaks her out.

she finally gets to the end and the guy hands her a bunch of 20′s. first she straightened them out and counted them, and then she took her pen out. when i used it i made a little flower so that i would know that i did it. she made a swirly. the first swirly came back black, the second swirly came back black. she got out the SECOND truth teller pen and scribbled a like down the center of the bills…. black as coal.

she was freaking out. dude look like he was intense. she very politely asked if he had another form of payment as she would not be able to accept his money. “WHY NOT?!”

*gulp*

“cause it’s not real, sir.”

“MONEY IS FUCKING REAL! YOU BETTER GET MANAGEMENT OVER HERE! MY MONEY IS AS GOOD AS ANYONE ELSE!!”

she very quickly walked over to the phone and paged, and her voice, was so tinged with panic that everyone, even CUSTOMERS stopped dead in their tracks and listened to the page. 

you’d never seen a page answered so quickly. it was prolly ringing before she put the phone back on the receiver. “what’s wrong? what’s going on? are you in danger? are you okay?”

and she told them that no, she wasn’t okay,, her customer was screaming and cursing at her and his money wasn’t real and she had no idea what to do now, this wasn’t covered in the CBL’s! 

this got manangement on their feet. “stay call, take a deep breath, we’ll be there in 5 seconds with back up. it’s going to be okay. just breathe.”

which is easier said than done with a man that weighs 150 lbs more than you is screaming his ever loving head off. even the retiree door greeter came over and stood by her just as a show of solidarity, she couldn’t really have done anything, but she was a witness, and sometimes that’s enough to get people to back down.

it must have felt like a hour later, but it was about 2-3 minutes before the store managers came walking down the aisle with the popo trailing behind them. the cops were soooooo happy to see him. 

one member of management took over the register as the other led the cashier off to sit and collect herself, while the cops talked to the guy and eventually arrested both the guy and the girl. (apparently they’d been looking for them)

management was so fucking happy that she caught him because he had like 300 dollars in funny money and she caught him dead to rights. they calmed her down, thanked her profusely, gave her the rest of the day off with pay, and called her bf or mother or someone to get her home, because she was shaking like a leaf and they didn’t want to her to get hurt on her way home.

So yes, i will use my pen when i have too. i’ll hold them fuckers up to the light to make sure that the right pressie is in the corner pocket.

don’t fuck with the money honey it just don’t pay.

One of my favorites was a couple years ago- this lady handed me a hundred dollar bill and I could tell right away that it was a fake. How did I know?


I mean, I could have checked for the watermark or the security strip or I could have checked the bi-chromatic ink, but…


It was legit printed on copy paper. From a home printer. The edges of it were white. The wrinkles were printed on it.


“Excuse me, I need to call my manager real quick.”


The woman drops everything and just bolts out the door. My manager kept the phony bill because it was so hilariously bad.