The girl you just called fat? She’s been starving herself and has lost 15kgs.
The boy you just called stupid? He has a learning disability and studies 4 hours a night.
The girl you just called ugly? She spends hours putting makeup on hoping you’ll like her.
The boy you just tripped over? He is already abused enough at home.
There’s more to people than you think.
Reblog this if you’re against bullying
(Reblogged from :-> Adorkably Me)
This morning I had a “Quick” 9am appointment at the local hospital for a cursory check that my recent Vampiric eye illness was fully cleared and all doing ok.
That was the plan, but we all know what they say of the best laid plans, and how they often “Gang aft agley,”
So here I sit, drained dry of blood, with a bruised arm, after hours of tests. I believe they have decided to run every test they could think off, including some I think they made up on the spot to try and track down the actual cause of my Vampiric Eye Syndrome.
Ah, your probably now sitting there thinking . o {Come on? drained of blood? Don’t be so melodramatic!}. Well I was sat in the blood letting chair for quite a while, and every other time in my life I have had blood tests they have taken two tubes of blood. Today they took what looked to be a dozen, Even the blood letter was shocked at the amount of tests being run. Put it this way, when they finally found a vein and started the blood collecting it was squirting quite strongly into the tube, by the time they got to the last tube it was barley a trickle coming out, and she had to keep forcing needle in deeper, and moving it about.
After I was drained of blood I was passed on to the X-ray department, Which was an interesting experience since my last xray was on my knee when I was about nine months old. I’m not sure I will be allowed back after I caused slight upset amongst the staff by suggesting they use the machines to peak into Xmas gifts to see what they are. There was also a case of roving hands, but I was polite and endured it.
So now, I get two weeks to recover from these tests before going back and getting the results.
How often do you drive past roadworks and wave a thanks, or even acknowledge the StopGo Man? You know the poor guy who stands there all the time the roadworks are going on, in rain, snow, hail, etc. changing his sign form Stop to Go and back again?
Well I would like to doff a virtual pint to the StopGo man in respect for the good work he does. “What? why am I doing this?” Well this morning on my commute to the Insane Asylum I hit a long set of roadworks, and as I approached I spotted the sign was on STOP. Now I must have just missed it since I could see cars way ahead of me heading in the direction I was. I slowed down, and sighed as I knew I would be stuck here now for a good ten minutes. As I slowed the StopGo man looked at my car, looked at the retreating cars in the distance, and waved me through. So I floored it til I caught up with the rest of the traffic. So the common sense of a StopGo man saved me a ten minute wait I would have had if there had been traffic lights there.
So to all StopGo men out there, I raise a pint to your good work.
Does anyone remember the old TV series (Or the book it was based on) called “Logan’s Run?” You know the one set in the future where every person has a small jewel in the palm of their hands that starts flashing when they reach a set age. I think we need something similar today, not to “put to sleep” those who reach thirty, but have a cut off age when people are no longer allowed to get new technology.
Let me tell you know why I have decided that this is the course we should follow. This morning before going to work, I popped over to see my parents as I’m looking after their dog for the weekend. Now my Mother has just got herself a new mobile phone, and decided to go for a “smart phone“. So just as I was leaving she asks me “I’ve got a weird shape thing on my phone, what’s it mean?“, I enquire to what it looks like “its a sort of thing, with a bit, and another thing” *turns phone at different angle* “It kinda looks like old video tapes”
I took the phone off her to check and informed her she had a voicemail, and if she clicked on it she could hear the message. So she clicked on it and started listening to the first time use recording, you know the one that tells you how to set a pin, and use the voicemail system. Only my mother removed the phone from her ear as the recording explained what to do “There’s a woman talking about pin’s and hash and stuff, I don’t know what she’s on about”
I sighed and explained you had to listen to the whole message to understand what she was saying, but not to worry as I’ll set it all up later for her. It was then that the voicemail started playing. I know this from my Mothers half of the conversation. “Oh HI, I was just going to call you.” “hello?”, “oh, you’ll be arriving then, do you need a lift” I interjected here “Its a voicemail” I was shusshed with “The woman said I had a message“. “right see you there then“. For my sanity I tried again “Its a voicemail, a recording!”
I then left the house laughing my head off as my mother was saying goodbye to the recording. Old people should not be allowed technology!
http://xkcd.com/627/
The other night a group of us were discussing where and when we first started drinking, who was involved, and trading stories. Its amazing how the practically harmless under-age drinking that happened when we were young, has been replaced with the more serious situation it is today. I wonder if the youth of today got to drink responsibly at a young age, we would have less binge drinking cases as they get older? “Sorry, off on a tangent there! Normal service will now resume“.
During the conversation I was reminded of the first time I was kicked out of a drinking establishment. I’ve not done bad really, just Three times in total. Once for under-age drinking, once for making a mess in an almost derelict pub, and one other. I thought I would share the story with you dear reader, so sit back, grab a pint and begin.
I was about fifteen years old (possibly sixteen, but I think it was fifteen) and I had been taken to the Wheelwrights Arms in Pen-y-Cae by my sisters boyfriend & friends (It was handy having a much older sister). Now in those days as long as you sat quietly out the way, and made no trouble you tended to get away with drinking as long as no one pointed it out. Unfortunately this day one of the people I was with had recently annoyed the Barmaid (which is never a good idea people, for they supply the holy nectar of booze). So there I was minding my own business when she came over to our group, and informed me I had to finish my drink and leave as I was under-age. Now this was not a problem since I had prepared for this eventuality by calculating a date of birth that made me eighteen (Legal age then).
Me: “What you mean? I’m eighteen!”
Barmaid: “No your not! what’s your birthdate?”
Me: *gave valid birthdate*
Barmaid: “HA! your wrong, that makes you seventeen. You said your birthday was November, its only March so your not eighteen yet! try better next time”
Me: *sigh* “I know my birthdays not til November, at which time I will be nineteen.”
I then made her count up from the year I had given till she got to the current year to prove I was eighteen as i claimed.
Barmaid: “Oh. Sorry, I was sure that was a made up date of birth”
She then walked away. Now all would have been well if she had made it to the bar and got distracted by peoples orders. Only she never made it that far.
Barmaid: *one step* *two steps* *three steps* *pause* *turns angrily* “OI! your fifteen! get out of here now.”
Me: “Come on we’ve already done this”
Barmaid: “Wayne! Your my brothers best friend, your in his class in school, Hell you were at my house watching films with him last night, tell me your eighteen” *there then followed a stream of very interesting language*
And that’s how I first got kicked out of a drinking establishment, and learnt the important lesson that if you wish to drink while under the legal age then pick a pub where the staff do not know you.
