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    Brains, Head, and Life: Have you ever had a job
 where you did nothing for
 years and nobody found out?
 Shayne Wyatt
 Answered Sep 22
 Once worked at a steel company and there used
 to be this guy with a clipboard and pen who
 would continually be in the stock area checking
 labels, boxes, pallets, shipping packages. His
 name was Bob and everyone liked him, he was
 personable, was into sports, just an all round
 nice guy who got along with everyone staff,
 managers, bosses, everyone. Bob had been with
 the company all of 15 years by then, and you
 have to understand, this was a large steel mill
 with a couple thousand people working
 throughout the three mills on the same
 property. Anyway, at a managers meeting a
 decision was made to have an employee look
 after a certain area of finished nails, screws,
 nuts and bolts. They were scratching their head

 about who had the brains to handle it. One of
 the managers said, "Why not Bob?" Everyone
 knew right away who he was referring to and
 they all agreed he would probably be the best
 man for the job. The next question out of the
 manager's mouth was "Okay, which one of you
 guys does he work for?" And no one said a
 word, but looked around the table at the other
 managers. "C'mon, he's gotta work for someone
 here." The manager said, and still there was no
 answer. Someone piped up, "Maybe he works
 for one of the office managers." Long story
 short Bob worked at the plant for over 15 years,
 collecting a paycheck each and every week. For
 the first five years he worked in a department
 that became obsolete and so people were
 moved around to other areas of the mill, except
 for Bob. He got lost in the shuffle and found
 himself floating here and there without
 supervision or anyone ever paying attention to
 him. He waited to see if he would still get a
 paycheck and when that happened he thought
 at the time, "Well, I wonder how long I can get
 away with this before someone notices?" How

 about 10 years folks of weekly paychecks
 coming in without ever having had to work a
 day in his life. When this came out it was the
 talk of the whole operations and even reached
 the president of the company who could only
 laugh at the whole situation. Nonetheless Bob
 was let go, but HR told them they had to offer
 him a good severance package because he was
 an employee after all for the full 15 years he was
 there, and it was not his fault he had nothing to
 do. Management should have caught it in the
 beginning. I'm 75 now and this happened when
 I was still a young man, and had pretty much
 forgotten about it all until I read the question
 and I could not hold back a big silly grin about a
 wonderfully silly memory of Bob.
 Thanks for the memory
 Shayne
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Brains, Head, and Life: Have you ever had a job
 where you did nothing for
 years and nobody found out?
 Shayne Wyatt
 Answered Sep 22
 Once worked at a steel company and there used
 to be this guy with a clipboard and pen who
 would continually be in the stock area checking
 labels, boxes, pallets, shipping packages. His
 name was Bob and everyone liked him, he was
 personable, was into sports, just an all round
 nice guy who got along with everyone staff,
 managers, bosses, everyone. Bob had been with
 the company all of 15 years by then, and you
 have to understand, this was a large steel mill
 with a couple thousand people working
 throughout the three mills on the same
 property. Anyway, at a managers meeting a
 decision was made to have an employee look
 after a certain area of finished nails, screws,
 nuts and bolts. They were scratching their head

 about who had the brains to handle it. One of
 the managers said, "Why not Bob?" Everyone
 knew right away who he was referring to and
 they all agreed he would probably be the best
 man for the job. The next question out of the
 manager's mouth was "Okay, which one of you
 guys does he work for?" And no one said a
 word, but looked around the table at the other
 managers. "C'mon, he's gotta work for someone
 here." The manager said, and still there was no
 answer. Someone piped up, "Maybe he works
 for one of the office managers." Long story
 short Bob worked at the plant for over 15 years,
 collecting a paycheck each and every week. For
 the first five years he worked in a department
 that became obsolete and so people were
 moved around to other areas of the mill, except
 for Bob. He got lost in the shuffle and found
 himself floating here and there without
 supervision or anyone ever paying attention to
 him. He waited to see if he would still get a
 paycheck and when that happened he thought
 at the time, "Well, I wonder how long I can get
 away with this before someone notices?" How

 about 10 years folks of weekly paychecks
 coming in without ever having had to work a
 day in his life. When this came out it was the
 talk of the whole operations and even reached
 the president of the company who could only
 laugh at the whole situation. Nonetheless Bob
 was let go, but HR told them they had to offer
 him a good severance package because he was
 an employee after all for the full 15 years he was
 there, and it was not his fault he had nothing to
 do. Management should have caught it in the
 beginning. I'm 75 now and this happened when
 I was still a young man, and had pretty much
 forgotten about it all until I read the question
 and I could not hold back a big silly grin about a
 wonderfully silly memory of Bob.
 Thanks for the memory
 Shayne
                
            

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:
It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.

My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.All I can hear is heavy breathing.“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol.”“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™, and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.“Kk.”
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:
It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.

My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.All I can hear is heavy breathing.“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol.”“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™, and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.“Kk.”
                
            

            
            
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:
It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apart...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    


    

        
        
    




                
            
        
        

            




    Beyonce, Bitch, and Cheating: What girls really do when they go to
 the bathroom together
Birds of a feather gone flock together. Every dude knows how annoying it is when you drop game on a girl but her friend be the Mutumbo of cock blocking. Girls move as a unit when it comes to their friends. Especially when going to the bathroom. Wanna bet? Take two female friends and put them on opposite ends of the world. Now let one of them go to the bathroom, when the other friend accepts her distress signal she goes as well. God be making people like that. I can’t have homies who girls have they passcode. This is like having the codes to launch nuclear missels. It’s unsafe. My boy Abel was the light skin of light skins so you know his girl wore the pants in the relationship. Me and him on double dates with our ladies. Him and his girl stay fighting. “If you not cheating let me see them text messages”. Boy silent like a mouse. She bonk gang that boy phone and went to the bathroom. Every girl in the restaurant stood up. I reached for my girl, another girl comes up to hold me back. This was a scene straight from iRobot. Every dude watched as all the girls crammed into the bathroom like a middle school fight. There was no one in the kitchen now. One dude went to knock on the door to check on his girl, there was no answer. He tried to poke his head in and caught a hit that sent him flying through the store front. That nigga dead now. I look and it’s worse than what I expected. The single friend is behind all the. It’s always the ones built like Ursula that be Bitter and bitchy. She got all our girls in some kind of bitter bitch spell. Girls be the FBI agents we keep joking about. Within minutes they were able to find every text, convo, phone call and transaction made. Had all that on big screen like we at a football game. We went to trial in a McDonald’s. There had to be bias during the trial. Every girl there listened to Beyoncé. We stood no chance. The jury found my nigga Abel guilty on 10 counts of cheating, polygamy, lying under oath, no ambition and Good dick. Whole squad guilty by association. That boy Abel serving 10 years in fuckboy purgatory. The system is constantly coming for black men. We all single now. Pray for Abel. He dropped the ball and hopefull
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Beyonce, Bitch, and Cheating: What girls really do when they go to
 the bathroom together
Birds of a feather gone flock together. Every dude knows how annoying it is when you drop game on a girl but her friend be the Mutumbo of cock blocking. Girls move as a unit when it comes to their friends. Especially when going to the bathroom. Wanna bet? Take two female friends and put them on opposite ends of the world. Now let one of them go to the bathroom, when the other friend accepts her distress signal she goes as well. God be making people like that. I can’t have homies who girls have they passcode. This is like having the codes to launch nuclear missels. It’s unsafe. My boy Abel was the light skin of light skins so you know his girl wore the pants in the relationship. Me and him on double dates with our ladies. Him and his girl stay fighting. “If you not cheating let me see them text messages”. Boy silent like a mouse. She bonk gang that boy phone and went to the bathroom. Every girl in the restaurant stood up. I reached for my girl, another girl comes up to hold me back. This was a scene straight from iRobot. Every dude watched as all the girls crammed into the bathroom like a middle school fight. There was no one in the kitchen now. One dude went to knock on the door to check on his girl, there was no answer. He tried to poke his head in and caught a hit that sent him flying through the store front. That nigga dead now. I look and it’s worse than what I expected. The single friend is behind all the. It’s always the ones built like Ursula that be Bitter and bitchy. She got all our girls in some kind of bitter bitch spell. Girls be the FBI agents we keep joking about. Within minutes they were able to find every text, convo, phone call and transaction made. Had all that on big screen like we at a football game. We went to trial in a McDonald’s. There had to be bias during the trial. Every girl there listened to Beyoncé. We stood no chance. The jury found my nigga Abel guilty on 10 counts of cheating, polygamy, lying under oath, no ambition and Good dick. Whole squad guilty by association. That boy Abel serving 10 years in fuckboy purgatory. The system is constantly coming for black men. We all single now. Pray for Abel. He dropped the ball and hopefull
                
            

            
            
Birds of a feather gone flock together. Every dude knows how annoying it is when you drop game on a girl but her friend be the Mutumbo of co...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

mmkaylamm:
thebootydiaries:


thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.


My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my white lily friends down. Not again.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.
All I can hear is heavy breathing.
“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”
There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol”.
“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”
“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.
“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”
He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”
“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.
The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.
“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.
I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™ and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.
“Kk.”


“I hear a tear”How do you hear a tear?

Ah, you must not be Muslim,
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

mmkaylamm:
thebootydiaries:


thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.


My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my white lily friends down. Not again.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.
All I can hear is heavy breathing.
“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”
There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol”.
“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”
“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.
“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”
He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”
“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.
The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.
“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.
I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™ and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.
“Kk.”


“I hear a tear”How do you hear a tear?

Ah, you must not be Muslim,
                
            

            
            
thebootydiaries:

mmkaylamm:
thebootydiaries:


thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound li...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.


My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.
All I can hear is heavy breathing.
“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”
There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol”.
“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”
“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.
“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”
He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”
“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.
The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.
“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.
I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™ and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.
“Kk.”

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.


My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.
All I can hear is heavy breathing.
“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”
There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol”.
“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”
“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.
“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”
He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”
“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.
The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.
“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.
I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™ and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.
“Kk.”

                
            

            
            
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apar...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

exmuslimah:
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.


My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.
All I can hear is heavy breathing.
“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”
There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol.”
“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”
“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.
“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”
He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”
“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.
The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.
“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.
I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™, and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.
“Kk.”

Wtf? Anon is completely right, everything they’re saying is true. You CAN actually make a difference by speaking up about the bs in Islam because a whole lot of shit that ISIS does is islamic, but no, go ahead and belittle the deaths of innocent human beings just because they’re “mayonnaise” instead.

what’s your workout routine? did you stretch before that reach? maybe stop watching fox news and consider looking into how many muslim leaders have spoken out about terrorism, or how ISIS kills more muslims than anyone else, or literally anything since you don’t seem to be very educated on this topic but still think your 2 cents are needed for some reason ://// 
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

exmuslimah:
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.


My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.
All I can hear is heavy breathing.
“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”
There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol.”
“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”
“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.
“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”
He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”
“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.
The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.
“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.
I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™, and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.
“Kk.”

Wtf? Anon is completely right, everything they’re saying is true. You CAN actually make a difference by speaking up about the bs in Islam because a whole lot of shit that ISIS does is islamic, but no, go ahead and belittle the deaths of innocent human beings just because they’re “mayonnaise” instead.

what’s your workout routine? did you stretch before that reach? maybe stop watching fox news and consider looking into how many muslim leaders have spoken out about terrorism, or how ISIS kills more muslims than anyone else, or literally anything since you don’t seem to be very educated on this topic but still think your 2 cents are needed for some reason ://// 
                
            

            
            
thebootydiaries:

exmuslimah:
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound li...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    


    

        
        
    




                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:
It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.

My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.All I can hear is heavy breathing.“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol.”“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™, and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.“Kk.”
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:
It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.

My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.All I can hear is heavy breathing.“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol.”“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™, and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.“Kk.”
                
            

            
            
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:
It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apart...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Dad, Drunk, and Food: <p><a href="https://myboredjunk.tumblr.com/post/159804973918/libertarirynn-dad-trash-humansofnewyork" class="tumblr_blog">myboredjunk</a>:</p>

<blockquote><p><a href="https://libertarirynn.tumblr.com/post/159801828539/dad-trash-humansofnewyork-my-father-never" class="tumblr_blog">libertarirynn</a>:</p><blockquote>
<p><a href="http://dad-trash.tumblr.com/post/159651475882/humansofnewyork-my-father-never-valued-my" class="tumblr_blog">dad-trash</a>:</p>

<blockquote>
<p><a href="http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/159516414346/my-father-never-valued-my-mother-she-did" class="tumblr_blog">humansofnewyork</a>:</p>
<blockquote><p>

“My father never valued my mother. She did everything for him. She worked all day, then she came home to cook dinner. My father just came home to sleep. She’d bring him his food on a tray. Everything had to be perfect: right colors, right napkins, everything. But he’d still call her names. He’d get drunk and yell at her for nothing. My mother was submissive and accepted it all. She’d even get mad at me if I tried to intervene. Eventually my father had an affair with our neighbor. And two years ago he left our home to be with her. Recently I spoke to him on the phone. He sounded depressed. He’d just broken up with the woman. He told me that he’d given her everything, but she still left him. He’d cooked for her, he’d treated her well, and he’d bought her whatever she wanted. But nothing was enough. I asked him if he realized what life was teaching him. He had no answer.”<br/><br/>(Bogotá, Colombia)<br/><br/></p></blockquote>

<p>Men aint shit lmao</p>
</blockquote>

<p>Wow this story is literally about how both men and women can be abusive and take advantage of their partners and that you should love and appreciate people instead of neglecting them and this is a man telling the story so clearly he understands this and still what you got out of it was “men ain’t shit lmao”.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Seems even less like abuse and more just they didn’t respond to each other’s love language. He got her gifts and she gave him service, but neither realized that was love.</p></blockquote>

<p>&ldquo;My father just came home to sleep. She’d bring him his food on a tray. Everything had to be perfect: right colors, right napkins, everything. But he’d still call her names. He’d get drunk and yell at her for nothing.&rdquo;</p><p>Read it again, he did not give her gifts. He abused her. He gave the woman he left his wife for gifts.</p>
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Dad, Drunk, and Food: <p><a href="https://myboredjunk.tumblr.com/post/159804973918/libertarirynn-dad-trash-humansofnewyork" class="tumblr_blog">myboredjunk</a>:</p>

<blockquote><p><a href="https://libertarirynn.tumblr.com/post/159801828539/dad-trash-humansofnewyork-my-father-never" class="tumblr_blog">libertarirynn</a>:</p><blockquote>
<p><a href="http://dad-trash.tumblr.com/post/159651475882/humansofnewyork-my-father-never-valued-my" class="tumblr_blog">dad-trash</a>:</p>

<blockquote>
<p><a href="http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/159516414346/my-father-never-valued-my-mother-she-did" class="tumblr_blog">humansofnewyork</a>:</p>
<blockquote><p>

“My father never valued my mother. She did everything for him. She worked all day, then she came home to cook dinner. My father just came home to sleep. She’d bring him his food on a tray. Everything had to be perfect: right colors, right napkins, everything. But he’d still call her names. He’d get drunk and yell at her for nothing. My mother was submissive and accepted it all. She’d even get mad at me if I tried to intervene. Eventually my father had an affair with our neighbor. And two years ago he left our home to be with her. Recently I spoke to him on the phone. He sounded depressed. He’d just broken up with the woman. He told me that he’d given her everything, but she still left him. He’d cooked for her, he’d treated her well, and he’d bought her whatever she wanted. But nothing was enough. I asked him if he realized what life was teaching him. He had no answer.”<br/><br/>(Bogotá, Colombia)<br/><br/></p></blockquote>

<p>Men aint shit lmao</p>
</blockquote>

<p>Wow this story is literally about how both men and women can be abusive and take advantage of their partners and that you should love and appreciate people instead of neglecting them and this is a man telling the story so clearly he understands this and still what you got out of it was “men ain’t shit lmao”.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Seems even less like abuse and more just they didn’t respond to each other’s love language. He got her gifts and she gave him service, but neither realized that was love.</p></blockquote>

<p>&ldquo;My father just came home to sleep. She’d bring him his food on a tray. Everything had to be perfect: right colors, right napkins, everything. But he’d still call her names. He’d get drunk and yell at her for nothing.&rdquo;</p><p>Read it again, he did not give her gifts. He abused her. He gave the woman he left his wife for gifts.</p>
                
            

            
            
myboredjunk:

libertarirynn:
dad-trash:


humansofnewyork:


“My father never valued my mother. She did everything for him. She worked all d...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Dad, Drunk, and Food: <p><a href="http://dad-trash.tumblr.com/post/159651475882/humansofnewyork-my-father-never-valued-my" class="tumblr_blog">dad-trash</a>:</p>

<blockquote><p><a href="http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/159516414346/my-father-never-valued-my-mother-she-did" class="tumblr_blog">humansofnewyork</a>:</p>
<blockquote><p>

“My father never valued my mother. She did everything for him. She worked all day, then she came home to cook dinner. My father just came home to sleep. She’d bring him his food on a tray. Everything had to be perfect: right colors, right napkins, everything. But he’d still call her names. He’d get drunk and yell at her for nothing. My mother was submissive and accepted it all. She’d even get mad at me if I tried to intervene. Eventually my father had an affair with our neighbor. And two years ago he left our home to be with her. Recently I spoke to him on the phone. He sounded depressed. He’d just broken up with the woman. He told me that he’d given her everything, but she still left him. He’d cooked for her, he’d treated her well, and he’d bought her whatever she wanted. But nothing was enough. I asked him if he realized what life was teaching him. He had no answer.”<br/><br/>(Bogotá, Colombia)<br/><br/></p></blockquote>

<p>Men aint shit lmao</p></blockquote>

<p>Wow this story is literally about how both men and women can be abusive and take advantage of their partners and that you should love and appreciate people instead of neglecting them and this is a man telling the story so clearly he understands this and still what you got out of it was &ldquo;men ain&rsquo;t shit lmao&rdquo;.</p>
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Dad, Drunk, and Food: <p><a href="http://dad-trash.tumblr.com/post/159651475882/humansofnewyork-my-father-never-valued-my" class="tumblr_blog">dad-trash</a>:</p>

<blockquote><p><a href="http://www.humansofnewyork.com/post/159516414346/my-father-never-valued-my-mother-she-did" class="tumblr_blog">humansofnewyork</a>:</p>
<blockquote><p>

“My father never valued my mother. She did everything for him. She worked all day, then she came home to cook dinner. My father just came home to sleep. She’d bring him his food on a tray. Everything had to be perfect: right colors, right napkins, everything. But he’d still call her names. He’d get drunk and yell at her for nothing. My mother was submissive and accepted it all. She’d even get mad at me if I tried to intervene. Eventually my father had an affair with our neighbor. And two years ago he left our home to be with her. Recently I spoke to him on the phone. He sounded depressed. He’d just broken up with the woman. He told me that he’d given her everything, but she still left him. He’d cooked for her, he’d treated her well, and he’d bought her whatever she wanted. But nothing was enough. I asked him if he realized what life was teaching him. He had no answer.”<br/><br/>(Bogotá, Colombia)<br/><br/></p></blockquote>

<p>Men aint shit lmao</p></blockquote>

<p>Wow this story is literally about how both men and women can be abusive and take advantage of their partners and that you should love and appreciate people instead of neglecting them and this is a man telling the story so clearly he understands this and still what you got out of it was &ldquo;men ain&rsquo;t shit lmao&rdquo;.</p>
                
            

            
            
dad-trash:

humansofnewyork:


“My father never valued my mother. She did everything for him. She worked all day, then she came home to cook...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. "Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.


My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.
All I can hear is heavy breathing.
“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”
There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol”.
“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”
“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.
“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”
He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”
“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.
The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.
“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.
I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™ and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.
“Kk.”

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Bad, Click, and Friends: Anonymous said
 why can't muslims tell other muslims to
 stop killing people?
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 
That changes today. 
“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 
Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.
“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 
Suddenly, silence. 
1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 
A single tear rolls down my cheek. "Please.” I say with a broken voice. 
He is moved. 
“Aight”.


My fingers are almost shaking as I carefully type in the ten digit phone number I have had memorized my entire life. The buttons on my home phone seem to glow a bit more dull, and even the ringing of the phone from the other end seems to be agonized, almost as if the world is telling me to hang up. But I refuse to give up; I can’t let my lily-white friends down. Not again.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. Just as I am about to hang up, there is a click.
All I can hear is heavy breathing.
“Hello….” I say quietly, my voice shaking. “Is….. Is this Muslim?”
There was a long silence before I heard a voice answer “ya lol”.
“I was thinking………..” I begin cautiously. “Maybe murder is…………bad.”
“Habibi, I…..I don’t understand. What are you trying to say….?” The voice seems shaken.
“What if…….world peace is good and killing people is…………not good”
He lets out an audible gasp. “Are you saying ISIS is…….bad?”
“Maybe death is…….not good.” I continue. My heart is racing. I remind myself that I am saving thousands of lives, and inhale.
The silence from the other end of the line is almost deafening. He seemed to be thinking, as if he had never considered this idea before in his life. Truly I had opened his heart and his mind. This…. This could end terrorism.
“Muslim….Please.” I whisper.
I hear a tear roll down his cheek, with my Muslim Communication Hearing™ and hold my breath as he finally breathes out his next words.
“Kk.”

                
            

            
            
thebootydiaries:

thebootydiaries:

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apar...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    


    

        
        
    




                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Anime, Apparently, and Bad: So I recently moved into a new neighborhood and it's a pretty nice area. After a couple of weeks, a moving truck pulls
 up and I realize there's a new girl living in the house next to me. So I walk out and I notice that she's all by herself
 Being the good neighbor I am, I go up and ask, "Hey, I see you don't have any help. Do you need any help with
 moving your boxes inside?"
 And keep this in mind, I'm like a 6/10 on good day while this girl is an easy 9/10. Like this girl can easily be a
 supermodel
 So I ask if she needs any help and she looks me dead in the
 "Uh... No thanks, I'm good."
 "Well ok. No problem
 So a couple days go by after that
 into my yard. So I'm thinking, "Ok cranky girl. Round 2, let's go, we got this."
 So I take the dumb dog and I bring it over to her house and give the door a kn
 biggest smile says, "OH MY GOD thank you SO MUCH! I don't know what I would do without him. He's like family to
 me. I'm so sorry that I was so mean to you the other day. I was having a bad day and took it out on you and I'm so
 sorry. Please let me make it up to you and take you out to dinner."
 So I humbly accept and we end up going out to dinner that night. Now, we don't have much in common. Like, I'm into
 video games and anime and she's into all this white girl stuff like makeup, Starbucks, and all that other shit. But, we
 have a good time. And I mean, this girl is WAY out of my league so who am I to complain? So then we hang out more
 frequently, I visit her and she visits me and now I'm in a good relationship with this extremely hot chick.
 A couple weeks go by, we continue this, and I see a moving truck come in from the other direction. I go out to greet
 the new neighbor and I see a cute girl come out of the moving truck. Now this girl is cute. She isn't supermodel hot,
 but she's cute. I would say she's like a 7/10. So I go up to her and say, "Hey, I see you don't have any help with
 with the
 stiest grimace on her face and says,
 eed anything, just give a little knock on the door and I'll come o
 led attempt and this girl's dumb, small chihuahua jumps over the fence and gets
 She opens the door and with the
 stuff i
 I hel
 Luckil
 e says, "Ye
 ure. Um, take this box and put it in the living room
 It's the first room to the right, you can't miss it."
 So I go to pick up the box and I realize that it's labeled "Video Games." The box wasn't taped very well, so I peek into
 the box and I'm seeing some serious video games. I'm seeing Final Fantasy 7-9 black label, a mint copy of Illusion of
 Gaia. Like, what girl even knows what that game is!? So I ask, "Hey, is this a box of your boyfriend's stuff?" and she
 responds with, "No, I don't have a boyfriend. That stuff's mine so make sure not to drop it." So now I know this girl is
 actually the coolest girl ever
 elp the girl move her stuff in and we hang out afterwards. We go
 t to lunch and we
 off. We ended up
 ust talking about video games the whole time and it was amazing. NowI
 don't forget, s
 ve a friend to talk nerd shit with and
 a cute as
 10. And I also have this 9/10 girlfriend with me. And again, I'm just a 6/10 so righ
 w, I'm living
 dream
 So a couple weeks go by and my girl
 nd comes up to me and says, "Hey, so this may sound weird, but I don't want
 time with her and I'm honestly a little
 with that girl anymore. You're
 d more time with me
 us and
 want you to s
 We
 try to talk t
 me
 an
 we can a
 and it'll be great." She says, "Wel
 So next day, my girlfriend comes up to me and says, "Uh,
 "Wait, what? Why not? What happened?"
 "Yeah she told me that you're hers now and if I ever go near you again, she is going to kill me."
 Il give it a shot. I'll try to talk to her tomorrow
 ah you can't see that girl ever again."
 I thin
 u're overreacting a little bit. She do
 tha
 seem
 t type of perso
 Sh
 s going to fucking murder me
 I can't imagine tha
 I go up to 7/10's house the next day and give it a little knock on the door but nobody answers. I try the doorbel
 nothing. Give her a call, text her, no answer. So then I call my girlfriend, try to tell her that she wasn't there and I'I
 try again tomorrow. But again, no answer. So I go
 kn
 Il try to straighten this
 an
 morroW
 her ho
 knock on the door and still no answer. Next da
 knock*
 r and I do
 w what's going
 So day after day goes by and eventually, week after week and I'm getting
 nothing turns up. I call their family and friends and they know nothing. And after weeks of all this, I just give up
 Then I turn the news on one day, and I see the 7/10 girl getting carried away in handcuffs. And, she's covered in
 blood from head to toe. She's screaming and yelling at the camera saying, "She's dead, you're next." A couple days
 go by and the autopsy reports are coming in, and its all over the internet. Apparently, not only did she kill my
 gorgeous 9/10 girlfriend, but parts of her were missing. Chunks of her arms and legs were gone and it seems that the
 7/10 girl ate parts of my girlfriend. Bit and chewed into her
 Now I'm thinking to myself that I had the two most amazing girls in my life. And I'm here, 6/10, just worried out of
 my mind because I can't get the image out of my head of her screaming into the cameras saying, "She's dead
 next. She's dead you're next." And I'm going crazy, I'm screaming and writing it in blood on the walls, "She's dead,
 you're next. She's dead you're next." AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT DO DO ANYMORE
 And it raises the question: Why is 6 afraid of 7?
 ng. I pu
 in the missing persons but
memehumor:

This Joke Proves Why Jealous Girlfriends Are Not to Be Trustedhttp://memehumor.tumblr.com
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Anime, Apparently, and Bad: So I recently moved into a new neighborhood and it's a pretty nice area. After a couple of weeks, a moving truck pulls
 up and I realize there's a new girl living in the house next to me. So I walk out and I notice that she's all by herself
 Being the good neighbor I am, I go up and ask, "Hey, I see you don't have any help. Do you need any help with
 moving your boxes inside?"
 And keep this in mind, I'm like a 6/10 on good day while this girl is an easy 9/10. Like this girl can easily be a
 supermodel
 So I ask if she needs any help and she looks me dead in the
 "Uh... No thanks, I'm good."
 "Well ok. No problem
 So a couple days go by after that
 into my yard. So I'm thinking, "Ok cranky girl. Round 2, let's go, we got this."
 So I take the dumb dog and I bring it over to her house and give the door a kn
 biggest smile says, "OH MY GOD thank you SO MUCH! I don't know what I would do without him. He's like family to
 me. I'm so sorry that I was so mean to you the other day. I was having a bad day and took it out on you and I'm so
 sorry. Please let me make it up to you and take you out to dinner."
 So I humbly accept and we end up going out to dinner that night. Now, we don't have much in common. Like, I'm into
 video games and anime and she's into all this white girl stuff like makeup, Starbucks, and all that other shit. But, we
 have a good time. And I mean, this girl is WAY out of my league so who am I to complain? So then we hang out more
 frequently, I visit her and she visits me and now I'm in a good relationship with this extremely hot chick.
 A couple weeks go by, we continue this, and I see a moving truck come in from the other direction. I go out to greet
 the new neighbor and I see a cute girl come out of the moving truck. Now this girl is cute. She isn't supermodel hot,
 but she's cute. I would say she's like a 7/10. So I go up to her and say, "Hey, I see you don't have any help with
 with the
 stiest grimace on her face and says,
 eed anything, just give a little knock on the door and I'll come o
 led attempt and this girl's dumb, small chihuahua jumps over the fence and gets
 She opens the door and with the
 stuff i
 I hel
 Luckil
 e says, "Ye
 ure. Um, take this box and put it in the living room
 It's the first room to the right, you can't miss it."
 So I go to pick up the box and I realize that it's labeled "Video Games." The box wasn't taped very well, so I peek into
 the box and I'm seeing some serious video games. I'm seeing Final Fantasy 7-9 black label, a mint copy of Illusion of
 Gaia. Like, what girl even knows what that game is!? So I ask, "Hey, is this a box of your boyfriend's stuff?" and she
 responds with, "No, I don't have a boyfriend. That stuff's mine so make sure not to drop it." So now I know this girl is
 actually the coolest girl ever
 elp the girl move her stuff in and we hang out afterwards. We go
 t to lunch and we
 off. We ended up
 ust talking about video games the whole time and it was amazing. NowI
 don't forget, s
 ve a friend to talk nerd shit with and
 a cute as
 10. And I also have this 9/10 girlfriend with me. And again, I'm just a 6/10 so righ
 w, I'm living
 dream
 So a couple weeks go by and my girl
 nd comes up to me and says, "Hey, so this may sound weird, but I don't want
 time with her and I'm honestly a little
 with that girl anymore. You're
 d more time with me
 us and
 want you to s
 We
 try to talk t
 me
 an
 we can a
 and it'll be great." She says, "Wel
 So next day, my girlfriend comes up to me and says, "Uh,
 "Wait, what? Why not? What happened?"
 "Yeah she told me that you're hers now and if I ever go near you again, she is going to kill me."
 Il give it a shot. I'll try to talk to her tomorrow
 ah you can't see that girl ever again."
 I thin
 u're overreacting a little bit. She do
 tha
 seem
 t type of perso
 Sh
 s going to fucking murder me
 I can't imagine tha
 I go up to 7/10's house the next day and give it a little knock on the door but nobody answers. I try the doorbel
 nothing. Give her a call, text her, no answer. So then I call my girlfriend, try to tell her that she wasn't there and I'I
 try again tomorrow. But again, no answer. So I go
 kn
 Il try to straighten this
 an
 morroW
 her ho
 knock on the door and still no answer. Next da
 knock*
 r and I do
 w what's going
 So day after day goes by and eventually, week after week and I'm getting
 nothing turns up. I call their family and friends and they know nothing. And after weeks of all this, I just give up
 Then I turn the news on one day, and I see the 7/10 girl getting carried away in handcuffs. And, she's covered in
 blood from head to toe. She's screaming and yelling at the camera saying, "She's dead, you're next." A couple days
 go by and the autopsy reports are coming in, and its all over the internet. Apparently, not only did she kill my
 gorgeous 9/10 girlfriend, but parts of her were missing. Chunks of her arms and legs were gone and it seems that the
 7/10 girl ate parts of my girlfriend. Bit and chewed into her
 Now I'm thinking to myself that I had the two most amazing girls in my life. And I'm here, 6/10, just worried out of
 my mind because I can't get the image out of my head of her screaming into the cameras saying, "She's dead
 next. She's dead you're next." And I'm going crazy, I'm screaming and writing it in blood on the walls, "She's dead,
 you're next. She's dead you're next." AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT DO DO ANYMORE
 And it raises the question: Why is 6 afraid of 7?
 ng. I pu
 in the missing persons but
memehumor:

This Joke Proves Why Jealous Girlfriends Are Not to Be Trustedhttp://memehumor.tumblr.com
                
            

            
            
memehumor:

This Joke Proves Why Jealous Girlfriends Are Not to Be Trustedhttp://memehumor.tumblr.com

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Bernie Sanders, cnn.com, and Politics: Nathan McDermott @Nate McDermott- 2h
 @FiveThirtyEight's Nate Silver said this about a potential Bernie win in
 Michigan
 NATE SILVER 9:25 PM
 I said earlier today that I had an intuition Sanders could beat his polling in
 Michigan tonight, but I didn't expect things to be quite so close. If Sanders
 winds up winning in Michigan, in fact, it will count as among the greatest
 polling errors in primary history. Clinton led by 21.3 percentage points in
 our final Michigan polling average. Previously, the candidate with the largest
 lead to lose a state in our database of well-polled primaries and caucuses
 was Walter Mondale, who led in New Hampshire by 17.1 percentage points
 but lost to Gary Hart in 1984.

 CNN C
 politics
 Election Results 2016 Nation World Oun
 age
 1601 total respondents
 12%
 18-24
 9%
 25-29
 16%
 30-39
 16%
 40-49
 27%
 50-64
 20%
 65 and
 older
 key
 clinton
 sanders
 uncommitted
 other/no answer
 13%
 87%
 n/a
 n/a
 23%
 75%
 2%
 n/a
 37%
 61%
 1%
 1%
 50%
 39%
 2%
 n/a
 56%
 40%
 3%
 1%
 68%
 31%
 1%
 n/a
horselover107:

areyoufromanotherplanet:

essyltinexile:

Bernie Sanders was down 20 points in Michigan polls. 
Look at those exit poll age metrics. 
You know what this says? This says that young people BROKE THE POLLS. 
Don’t let anyone tell you that your vote doesn’t matter or that young people can’t have a say: young people have just proven that they MUST be listened to. 

If you guys want Bernie to have a chance, he needs to repeat this sort of performance (and likely, win by even more) in Ohio, Illinois, Florida, and more. And P.S., he’s currently trailing by 20 points or so in those states, as he was in Michigan. 
So if you live in those states… chop-chop.

Floridans. He’s down by like 40 percent  here. Get out to the polls and vote; they’re already open for early voting this week if you can’t make it on Election Day. Prove the pollsters wrong. We can do it!

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Bernie Sanders, cnn.com, and Politics: Nathan McDermott @Nate McDermott- 2h
 @FiveThirtyEight's Nate Silver said this about a potential Bernie win in
 Michigan
 NATE SILVER 9:25 PM
 I said earlier today that I had an intuition Sanders could beat his polling in
 Michigan tonight, but I didn't expect things to be quite so close. If Sanders
 winds up winning in Michigan, in fact, it will count as among the greatest
 polling errors in primary history. Clinton led by 21.3 percentage points in
 our final Michigan polling average. Previously, the candidate with the largest
 lead to lose a state in our database of well-polled primaries and caucuses
 was Walter Mondale, who led in New Hampshire by 17.1 percentage points
 but lost to Gary Hart in 1984.

 CNN C
 politics
 Election Results 2016 Nation World Oun
 age
 1601 total respondents
 12%
 18-24
 9%
 25-29
 16%
 30-39
 16%
 40-49
 27%
 50-64
 20%
 65 and
 older
 key
 clinton
 sanders
 uncommitted
 other/no answer
 13%
 87%
 n/a
 n/a
 23%
 75%
 2%
 n/a
 37%
 61%
 1%
 1%
 50%
 39%
 2%
 n/a
 56%
 40%
 3%
 1%
 68%
 31%
 1%
 n/a
horselover107:

areyoufromanotherplanet:

essyltinexile:

Bernie Sanders was down 20 points in Michigan polls. 
Look at those exit poll age metrics. 
You know what this says? This says that young people BROKE THE POLLS. 
Don’t let anyone tell you that your vote doesn’t matter or that young people can’t have a say: young people have just proven that they MUST be listened to. 

If you guys want Bernie to have a chance, he needs to repeat this sort of performance (and likely, win by even more) in Ohio, Illinois, Florida, and more. And P.S., he’s currently trailing by 20 points or so in those states, as he was in Michigan. 
So if you live in those states… chop-chop.

Floridans. He’s down by like 40 percent  here. Get out to the polls and vote; they’re already open for early voting this week if you can’t make it on Election Day. Prove the pollsters wrong. We can do it!

                
            

            
            
horselover107:

areyoufromanotherplanet:

essyltinexile:

Bernie Sanders was down 20 points in Michigan polls. 
Look at those exit poll age ...

            
            
        

    



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            



        

            
                
                    
                    
                
            
        
        

            




    Love, Pretentious, and Sorry: kouichijo:

"Is Orihara Izaya lonely or not?

I have been asked that question.

This is just my personal opinion. I think he feels lonely, but at the same time satisfied. 

His love has been, is, and always will be unilateral. It is not that he has never been loved; however, he always denies such love access to him. As long as he loves others, he feels connected to them and satisfied.

When he wants to use you, he does allow you to get close to him. But there will still be a thick wall between you and his heart.

Sounds pretentious, doesn't it? But those were his very own smug words in my chatroom that day. Talk to him if you want to complain. Though I don't think he even blushed when he said those words. Well.

This unblushing attitude, I think, is exactly what keeps him in the advantageous position, whatever the situation. Even so, he still keeps saying things like  "Because I love all the humans in this world, all the humans in this world should love me back." Well, whether it's a lie or not, it does sound like something he would say. 

But if you were to ask me, "Does Orihara Izaya love himself, then?" - I would have no answer for you but silence.

That's something only Izaya himself knows. Whatever he chooses to tell you, there is nothing you can do about it. 

Because even if people try to persuade him to change himself, he would probably never let their words sink into his heart. 

That was my opinion.

Sorry. To be frank with you, I feel embarrassed."
											-Tsukumoya Shinichi



    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Love, Pretentious, and Sorry: kouichijo:

"Is Orihara Izaya lonely or not?

I have been asked that question.

This is just my personal opinion. I think he feels lonely, but at the same time satisfied. 

His love has been, is, and always will be unilateral. It is not that he has never been loved; however, he always denies such love access to him. As long as he loves others, he feels connected to them and satisfied.

When he wants to use you, he does allow you to get close to him. But there will still be a thick wall between you and his heart.

Sounds pretentious, doesn't it? But those were his very own smug words in my chatroom that day. Talk to him if you want to complain. Though I don't think he even blushed when he said those words. Well.

This unblushing attitude, I think, is exactly what keeps him in the advantageous position, whatever the situation. Even so, he still keeps saying things like  "Because I love all the humans in this world, all the humans in this world should love me back." Well, whether it's a lie or not, it does sound like something he would say. 

But if you were to ask me, "Does Orihara Izaya love himself, then?" - I would have no answer for you but silence.

That's something only Izaya himself knows. Whatever he chooses to tell you, there is nothing you can do about it. 

Because even if people try to persuade him to change himself, he would probably never let their words sink into his heart. 

That was my opinion.

Sorry. To be frank with you, I feel embarrassed."
											-Tsukumoya Shinichi



                
            

            
            
kouichijo:

"Is Orihara Izaya lonely or not?

I have been asked that question.

This is just my personal opinion. I think he feels lonely, b...