Jack Hawksmoor

The shallow thoughts and wild gibbering of an obsessed mad person. A collection of strange and beautiful things gathered together by someone with rather unusual habits, tastes and hobbies.
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Jon Stewart Goes After Fox in Powerful Ferguson Monologue

a little true story for you about racism in the workplace

my mother was once disciplined at her work for racist disciplinary practices- she was a manager at Macy’s for years, and she was writing up and disciplining her black employees much harsher than her white employees. But it wasn’t blatant, it was a trend in her actions and my mother denied it (and was outwardly furious that anybody would ever dare accuse her of being racist to her employees), so in the end nothing was really done and her black employees just had to deal with the crap my mother gave them.

Except I know, because I’m her daughter, that privately? My mother is racist as HELL. When I was eight years old she refused to let me go to my girlfriend’s birthday party, I begged her until I cried, but she said I couldn’t go ‘because she’s black’. She used to tear up drawings I did (like when I was little-little, in crayon) that had black people in them and throw them in the trash, because she ‘didn’t want black faces in her house’. And when I got to high school she drove me out into the woods one day and said if I ever got pregnant with a black baby she’d bury me out there.

So yeah, my mother worked for years in management and in all likelihood? Did everything she could to make the lives of anyone under her who wasn’t white a living hell, and she was smart enough about it that she only ever got close to getting caught once. But I have NO doubt she ruined countless people’s lives. And I’m sure there are lots of people out there just like her.

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I dont normally post/reblog stuff like this, but jeasus christ im dying.


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People who notice everything but remain silent are to be feared.

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you are too cute NOT to pick up omg

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Misha Collins - VanCon 2014

Misha Collins - VanCon 2014

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This is the one time of year that I love wasps.

Not because the wasps themselves get any nicer. They’re horrid little creatures year round. No, it’s because I have a couple of big apple trees out back, and late August, early September is when the apples start ripening.

Now, if you don’t harvest your own fruit, there are two things you need to know about apples.

The first thing you need to know about apples is that, when apples get ripe, they tend to fall from the tree at the slightest breeze.

I often work late at the office; by the time I get home, there are piles of apples scattered everywhere - and sure enough, the wasps are out in force, gorging themselves on the fruit. When I go to clean up the windfallen apples, the wasps naturally do the “rawr, I’ma fuck you up!” routine for which wasps are known.

The second thing you need to know about apples is that they ferment very rapidly in the late August heat.

So: the wasps try to come at me, but they’re too drunk to fly. They get about an inch off the ground, then faceplant directly into the turf, flip over onto their backs, and lay there, legs twitching in the air as they try in vain to find something to sting.

Perhaps I’m a man of simple pleasures, but I bust up laughing every. single. time.

Fucking wasps.

I tried to reblog this with a witty tag, but Tumblr took it as serious advice:


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