missapea:

sssibilance:

yourpersonalcheerleader:

linrenzo:

videohall:

Baby laughing while getting shots

> Rock star doctor.

I don’t care how old he will be I’m taking my future children to him

My heart!

That person is in the right field!  So many pediatricians are terrible with children; you can tell this person LOVES children and taking care of them.

Holy crap! That man is amazing!

howtonotsuckatgamedesign:

brie3po:

lodubimvloyaar:

Children Read To Shelter Cats To Soothe Them

(Photos by Animal Rescue League Of Berks County. You can follow them on Facebook.)

Also good for the kids. They encourage having slow readers read to the family pets. A dog will listen to a kid read a whole book one damn sssyl-la-ble at a time, and it will never get frustrated, or correct their pronunciation, or start playing Angry Bird because it can’t stand listening to the slowness any more. The dog will look at the kid approvingly, because, human. Human is talking. Human is interacting.

So this is a great win-win.

I’ve been with kids in a similar program, and they get so into it. They want to know the cats’ names, pick books that the cats will enjoy (“I can’t read her that book! It’s about dogs!”), make sure they can see the pictures, and get so excited when the kitties show their appreciation with headbutts and lap sitting. 

Hey, how about some smarts and kindness for a change. Faith in humanity (and felinity) restored.

awenyddogamulosx:

ruthlesswoodcarver:

mothensidhe:

fatfury:

omgxchrissy:

cumleak:

deux-zero-deux:

demands-with-menace:

Queen Hatshepsut of Ancient Egypt. She has a lovely smile for someone who’s been dead for thousands of years.

she wasn’t a queen. she was a pharaoh and wanted to be referred to as such. she even had her statues modeled after the male pharaoh’s statues to state her dominance and authority. she was actually one of the most successful pharaohs in all of ancient egyptian history and she reigned longer than any other woman in power in egypt.

damn no wonder she died and smiled for a trillion years afterwards

The fact that we know about her is marvelous.
the next Pharaoh after her Tuthmosis III  tried to erase Hatshepsut out of history ,chiseled her name off her monuments ,covered the text on her obelisks with stone,knocked down and defaced her statues .
she was even left off the list of pharaohs ..talk about some patriarchy bullshit
her name was lost for a couple of millennia, her body was found in a unmarked grave  in early twentieth century
sad part is in Egyptian belief is  if your are forgotten in the living world you don’t exist in the afterlife,so he was trying to kill her even in death 

My best friend throwing down some herstory. A+ commentary

She wore a fake beard, you guys.She was the fucking boss.

If we remember her now does that save her from an awful afterlife?

I’m just picturing the Kemetic afterlife. All the Pharaohs are hanging out in some kind of swanky club, drinking and congratulating each other on being bros. 
The doors slam open and Hatshepsut strides in, glorious, robes swirling, rocking the fake beard and the insane amounts of wealth and power. “Miss me, bitches?” 

awenyddogamulosx:

ruthlesswoodcarver:

mothensidhe:

fatfury:

omgxchrissy:

cumleak:

deux-zero-deux:

demands-with-menace:

Queen Hatshepsut of Ancient Egypt. She has a lovely smile for someone who’s been dead for thousands of years.

she wasn’t a queen. she was a pharaoh and wanted to be referred to as such. she even had her statues modeled after the male pharaoh’s statues to state her dominance and authority. she was actually one of the most successful pharaohs in all of ancient egyptian history and she reigned longer than any other woman in power in egypt.

damn no wonder she died and smiled for a trillion years afterwards

The fact that we know about her is marvelous.

the next Pharaoh after her Tuthmosis III  tried to erase Hatshepsut out of history ,chiseled her name off her monuments ,covered the text on her obelisks with stone,knocked down and defaced her statues .

she was even left off the list of pharaohs ..talk about some patriarchy bullshit

her name was lost for a couple of millennia, her body was found in a unmarked grave  in early twentieth century

sad part is in Egyptian belief is  if your are forgotten in the living world you don’t exist in the afterlife,so he was trying to kill her even in death 

My best friend throwing down some herstory. A+ commentary

She wore a fake beard, you guys.
She was the fucking boss.

If we remember her now does that save her from an awful afterlife?

I’m just picturing the Kemetic afterlife. All the Pharaohs are hanging out in some kind of swanky club, drinking and congratulating each other on being bros. 

The doors slam open and Hatshepsut strides in, glorious, robes swirling, rocking the fake beard and the insane amounts of wealth and power. “Miss me, bitches?” 

tamorapierce:

laurendestefano:

Okay, so two days after I have announced that I will not be able to participate in the gishwhes event, it is abundantly clear that these messages are still going to keep pouring in. I am omitting the name here to respect the commenter’s privacy. I wasn’t going to say anything more on the topic, but this one has me actually shaking as I type this.
1.) I can never say it better than Neil Gaiman’s “GRRM is not your bitch” blog, which is perfect in every way. I can only say it in my own way: I am a person. I wake up every morning with my own life experiences, challenges, struggles, and shit to do, just like everyone else on this planet. When I am taking pictures of my cats and live tweeting television shows, that is me taking some time out to do something fun that I enjoy, and hey, maybe my fans will enjoy it too. I am not a one-woman factory that exists to write books and then spend my free time catering to the demands of others.
2.) I cannot please everyone. Setting this gishwhes thing aside, literally every day, every day, since March 2011 when my first book was published, I have received at least one complaint from someone on the internet about something I did to make them unhappy. One day it was that I tweeted about pasta. Another day it was that I RTed too many other authors. One day I managed to make a very passionate GoT fan positively livid because I was not appreciating the depth of the dragon story arc to his satisfaction. And this is just the stuff I get that’s unrelated to my books. This is literally strangers telling me what I should say and also how I should spend my time. And no, that is never ever ever going to happen. Dictating what I do is not on your best day going to work with me. If you don’t believe me, go ask my fourth grade teacher who tried valiantly to get me to stop doodling and writing stories during social studies class.
3.) My cats make a lot of people happy. They make me happy. And this month, one of them very nearly died. I drained my energy and my bank account into saving him. I sat on my bedroom floor and cried I can’t tell you how many times in the past few days. I am not sorry if you feel that time would have been better spent writing a 140 word story so that a team of gishwhes participants have a shot at a vacation with misha collins.
4.) I have said it before and I will say it again: I am thankful for every fan that I get. I solemnly swear to write the best book for you that I can, every time. I will give it 100% every time. I can’t guarantee that you will love it, but I can guarantee that I will give it all of my heart. I will sacrifice dinners with friends. I will avoid phone calls. I will charge through my own crippling self doubt, choking on the smoke of my failures until I come through to the other side. I will read all of your emails. I will take your asks. I will read every comment you post on my wall, even if it is hateful, because I want you to be heard. But who I am and how I spend my time outside of that is MINE. There seems to be this belief among some people that authors exist to write books and that we spend the rest of our time in a boat sipping rum & coke. In fact, we are maintaining our personal relationships, handling emergencies, talking friends through a bad breakup, helping a relative in rehab, burying our loved ones who passed away, visiting our elderly and dying relatives in nursing homes, and yes, tweeting stupid comments about television shows.
5.) Buying a book is not buying an author. When you buy a muffin, do you email the baker to demand to know what he is doing with his free time that he is not currently baking more delicious muffins for you to eat right now? Do you think that because there are no blueberry muffins that day that he is wasting his time spending the day with his family? No, of course not, because that would be insane. So don’t do this to authors. You want our books? Great, buy them, awesome. Our job is to make sure they’re written and turned in on time, and in exchange you get to do whatever you want with that book after you’ve bought it or borrowed it from the library. Tear it to shreds. Insult the prose. Love it. Burn it. I don’t care, that’s your book. But the book is all that’s yours. Not me. You do not own stock into my life.
6.) Never talk to me like this. Never, ever talk to me like this. It is absolutely uncalled for. I don’t know you. I have written a book for you to read and so concludes the list of things you have a right to ask for.

I have things WAY better than other writers, apparently.  Small dustups sometimes, yes, but I hope we straighten them out.  Nothing like what she describes in #2.
And I wish Gaiman hadn’t used the B-word.  I hate it and you’ll never hear me use it, because unless it’s used to describe a female dog by a dog person, it is heaped in anti-woman connotations.  I know plenty of women will hasten to tell me they are reclaiming this word, as they are reclaiming the c-word from negative use.  They can save their time.  I am almost sixty and heaps of people have already tried to convince me on the score of reclamation without success.
I still have `way better fans than these folks seem to have. 

tamorapierce:

laurendestefano:

Okay, so two days after I have announced that I will not be able to participate in the gishwhes event, it is abundantly clear that these messages are still going to keep pouring in. I am omitting the name here to respect the commenter’s privacy. I wasn’t going to say anything more on the topic, but this one has me actually shaking as I type this.

1.) I can never say it better than Neil Gaiman’s “GRRM is not your bitch” blog, which is perfect in every way. I can only say it in my own way: I am a person. I wake up every morning with my own life experiences, challenges, struggles, and shit to do, just like everyone else on this planet. When I am taking pictures of my cats and live tweeting television shows, that is me taking some time out to do something fun that I enjoy, and hey, maybe my fans will enjoy it too. I am not a one-woman factory that exists to write books and then spend my free time catering to the demands of others.

2.) I cannot please everyone. Setting this gishwhes thing aside, literally every day, every day, since March 2011 when my first book was published, I have received at least one complaint from someone on the internet about something I did to make them unhappy. One day it was that I tweeted about pasta. Another day it was that I RTed too many other authors. One day I managed to make a very passionate GoT fan positively livid because I was not appreciating the depth of the dragon story arc to his satisfaction. And this is just the stuff I get that’s unrelated to my books. This is literally strangers telling me what I should say and also how I should spend my time. And no, that is never ever ever going to happen. Dictating what I do is not on your best day going to work with me. If you don’t believe me, go ask my fourth grade teacher who tried valiantly to get me to stop doodling and writing stories during social studies class.

3.) My cats make a lot of people happy. They make me happy. And this month, one of them very nearly died. I drained my energy and my bank account into saving him. I sat on my bedroom floor and cried I can’t tell you how many times in the past few days. I am not sorry if you feel that time would have been better spent writing a 140 word story so that a team of gishwhes participants have a shot at a vacation with misha collins.

4.) I have said it before and I will say it again: I am thankful for every fan that I get. I solemnly swear to write the best book for you that I can, every time. I will give it 100% every time. I can’t guarantee that you will love it, but I can guarantee that I will give it all of my heart. I will sacrifice dinners with friends. I will avoid phone calls. I will charge through my own crippling self doubt, choking on the smoke of my failures until I come through to the other side. I will read all of your emails. I will take your asks. I will read every comment you post on my wall, even if it is hateful, because I want you to be heard. But who I am and how I spend my time outside of that is MINE. There seems to be this belief among some people that authors exist to write books and that we spend the rest of our time in a boat sipping rum & coke. In fact, we are maintaining our personal relationships, handling emergencies, talking friends through a bad breakup, helping a relative in rehab, burying our loved ones who passed away, visiting our elderly and dying relatives in nursing homes, and yes, tweeting stupid comments about television shows.

5.) Buying a book is not buying an author. When you buy a muffin, do you email the baker to demand to know what he is doing with his free time that he is not currently baking more delicious muffins for you to eat right now? Do you think that because there are no blueberry muffins that day that he is wasting his time spending the day with his family? No, of course not, because that would be insane. So don’t do this to authors. You want our books? Great, buy them, awesome. Our job is to make sure they’re written and turned in on time, and in exchange you get to do whatever you want with that book after you’ve bought it or borrowed it from the library. Tear it to shreds. Insult the prose. Love it. Burn it. I don’t care, that’s your book. But the book is all that’s yours. Not me. You do not own stock into my life.

6.) Never talk to me like this. Never, ever talk to me like this. It is absolutely uncalled for. I don’t know you. I have written a book for you to read and so concludes the list of things you have a right to ask for.

I have things WAY better than other writers, apparently.  Small dustups sometimes, yes, but I hope we straighten them out.  Nothing like what she describes in #2.

And I wish Gaiman hadn’t used the B-word.  I hate it and you’ll never hear me use it, because unless it’s used to describe a female dog by a dog person, it is heaped in anti-woman connotations.  I know plenty of women will hasten to tell me they are reclaiming this word, as they are reclaiming the c-word from negative use.  They can save their time.  I am almost sixty and heaps of people have already tried to convince me on the score of reclamation without success.

I still have `way better fans than these folks seem to have. 

"We know that David Clapson was actively searching for work when he died because a pile of CVs he had just printed out was found a few metres from his body. The last time he spoke to his sister, a few days before he died, he told her he was waiting to hear back about an application he had made to the supermarket chain Lidl. But officials at the Jobcentre believed he was not taking his search for work seriously enough, and early last July, they sanctioned him – cutting off his benefit payments entirely, as a punishment for his failure to attend two appointments. Clapson, 59, who had diabetes, died in his flat in Stevenage on 20 July 2013, from diabetic ketoacidosis (caused by an acute lack of insulin). When Gill Thompson, his younger sister, discovered his body, she found his electricity had been cut off (meaning that the fridge where he kept his insulin was no longer working). There was very little left to eat in the flat – six tea bags, an out-of-date tin of sardines and a can of tomato soup. His pay-as-you-go mobile phone had just 5p credit left on it and he had only £3.44 in his bank account. The autopsy notes reveal that his stomach was empty."
Amelia Gentleman: 'No one should die penniless and alone': the victims of Britain's harsh welfare sanctions | The Guardian

This story is so desperately sad. I can’t help but feel similar realities will soon be upon Australia if the Newstart, Medicare and Basics crackdowns come into play. (via clambistro)