herbalessences:

To all the ham-loving vegan, girl-army warriors on a space-crusading, prim-and-proper, high-speed sea chase, this is for you.

"Ham-loving vegan." Oh, shit, Herbal Essences. You just lit a match and Tumblr is the garbage fire.

creepyold-kit-hands:

coelasquid:

throughthewildblue:

You cannot buy electronics with food stamps. You cannot buy cigarettes with food stamps. You cannot buy pet food with food stamps. You cannot withdraw money with an EBT card (food stamps).

Do you know what else you can’t buy with food stamps? Shampoo, soap, laundry detergent, toilet paper, paper towels, tissues, tinfoil, plastic sandwich bags, toothpaste, cleaning products, tampons, pads, over the counter medications (such as Tylenol, Ibuprofen, etc.), and anything else you can think of that you cannot physically ingest for nutritional purposes.

Do you know what you can buy with food stamps? Food.

Do you know what it’s like to scrounge for change to buy non-edible necessities, use a credit card and EBT card (food stamps) during the same transaction, and then have the person in line behind you judge you for buying the ingredients to make a birthday cake?

People who disseminate false information about food stamps have never had to use food stamps.

Okay, but let’s talk for a second about how that one lady called turkey “big chicken”

You can’t even buy all food with food stamps. You just… you flat-out can’t buy “food that will be eaten in the store/any food sold for on-premises consumption” or any “hot foods” with food stamps—meaning you can’t buy anything hot, you can’t buy anything that gets blended together, you can’t buy anything “pre-prepared,” in most cases you can’t use your EBT card at restaurants. You literally CANNOT purchase a milkshake with food stamps, because it’s considered “sold for on-premises consumption” (which was ridiculous at the place I worked, because the customer had to mix their own milkshake themself with a little machine we provided them, and several people got upset—rightfully so, I think—that it wasn’t covered under food stamps, because they often only found out at the register after already mixing it, often as a treat for their kids). You literally can’t walk into a gas station, grab one of those hot dogs off their grills/out of the little heated food area, and buy it with food stamps, because it’s hot.

And when I say “can’t,” I don’t mean “if the cashier notices you trying and cares enough to stop you, they’ll refuse to do it for you.” I mean “it is actually impossible to do this.” I’m not even sure these people who disseminate false information about food stamps have paid any attention at all when buying things at the store, because what happens is: We scan in the customer’s items, into our computer. The computer has specific codes for the items and rules for what it will let you pay for things with. We scan the customer’s EBT card, and it tells us exactly how much of that price total can be paid for via EBT, and it will not include anything that isn’t food, and it will not include anything considered “pre-prepared” food. It does this automatically AND THERE IS NO OVERRIDE FOR IT. If our machines say that you can’t use the EBT card to pay for something, there is literally nothing we can do to change that, even if we WANTED to.

So no. You can’t buy iPads or cigarettes with food stamps. You can’t withdraw money from casinos or anywhere else with food stamps. You can’t buy dog food with food stamps; sometimes you can’t even buy people food with food stamps. I’m not even sure if you can buy “the big chicken legs” at Disney with food stamps; remember, you can’t buy “any food sold for on-premises consumption” OR any hot foods, and that’s both.

Literally the only thing these fearmongers listed that you can actually purchase with food stamps even if you are in goddamn cahoots with the evil liberal cashier or store manager is soda, and the judgement against people buying that with food stamps is classist fuckwittery at its finest.

So, as always, Fox News is actually flat-out lying, and hateful conservatives both don’t know what they’re talking about and don’t give a fuck about people going through shit that they will never have to go through themselves, and that they in fact don’t have even the tiniest clue about (not even via five seconds’ research; a list of things that can’t be purchased with food stamps is on the Food and Nutrition Services website) but still think they should spout off about to their TV audience anyway.

(Source: sandandglass, via peter-fucking-parker)

chelseaheckagaming:

Guess it’s time to let everyone know I’m in a videogame… sorta. Not… really. Pretend it is true.

Me, too.

chelseaheckagaming:

Guess it’s time to let everyone know I’m in a videogame… sorta. Not… really. Pretend it is true.

Me, too.

septagonstudios:

Cisternas
SAILORTROOPER
netflixia:

Pac-Man and the Ghostly Adventures
(2013) TV-Y7 [1 Season]
Teenage Pac and his loyal crew face the ups and downs of adolescence while protecting Pac-World from a ghostly army led by the evil Betrayus.
6.5/10 - IMDB
View Trailer || Add/Watch on Netflix

Whoa, whoa, whoa… Betrayus, leader of the ghost army, is evil? That doesn’t add up.

netflixia:

Pac-Man and the Ghostly Adventures

(2013) TV-Y7 [1 Season]

Teenage Pac and his loyal crew face the ups and downs of adolescence while protecting Pac-World from a ghostly army led by the evil Betrayus.

6.5/10 - IMDB

View Trailer || Add/Watch on Netflix

Whoa, whoa, whoa… Betrayus, leader of the ghost army, is evil? That doesn’t add up.

sansaspark:

magconbabe-matt:

This shit better work

HAH I REBLOGGED THIS LAST NIGHT AND LOOK WHAT I GOT FROM MY DAD TODAY OUT OF THE BLUE


Better reblog. I might be busy in 2837.

sansaspark:

magconbabe-matt:

This shit better work

HAH I REBLOGGED THIS LAST NIGHT AND LOOK WHAT I GOT FROM MY DAD TODAY OUT OF THE BLUE

Better reblog. I might be busy in 2837.

(via followyourdreamsspider)

nerdsandgamersftw:

fluffbutts:

sixpenceee:

If you are looking for the most heart-felt zombie short film, I recommend “Cargo”.

It’s about a man’s struggle to save his baby daughter in the middle of all this havoc. What he comes up with is both clever and upsetting. 

WATCH CARGO

OKAY JUST WATCHED THIS, THE SOLUTION WAS AMAZING WATCH IT OHMYGOD WATCH IT

THIS HAS BROUGHT LITERAL GOD DAMN TEARS TO MY EYES AHHH

manolizer:

U.S.S. Sulaco

manolizer:

U.S.S. Sulaco

(via xen-o-morph)

littledeerling:

punk scully is my gf 

littledeerling:

punk scully is my gf 

(via peter-fucking-parker)

I helped someone today.

I’m holed up in Dallas hotel, waiting out the interim between shows. Typically, one city means one week, and stuffing in my usual tasks like picking up a rental, renting a U-Haul because aforementioned rental is too small for my cargo, then grabbing said cargo and setting all that shit up in prep for a weekend of selling merchandise just doesn’t leave wiggle room in the schedule.

But there’s miles of wiggle room here. I’ve been in Texas two weeks with one more to burn up. And it’s a slow burn. What they don’t tell you is being stuck in a hotel is like being stuck in your own head. The thoughts just bounce off the walls and reverberate back into your skull, repeating themselves endlessly. Small tasks distract yourself. Going to Wal-Mart. Driving to Raising Cane’s (it’s an all chicken finger establishment — a novel concept that Florida really needs to fucking pick up on). Masturbating. Marathoning B-rate anime on Netflix. Shaving. Masturbating. A cycle of distractions made, somehow, more poignant because you’re not home. You’re not where you should be. A stranger in a minutely strange land.

Today’s distraction was walking to the gas station convenience store around the corner. A simple task that, in the hour or so before the sun washes away from the sky, has no foreseeable obstacles. But there was one.

A lanky, darkly tanned white guy, his hair buzzed to almost nothing and his logo-less t-shirt dangling around his collar like a sheet meant for a child’s bed. Tattoos ran up both of his arms. On top of those, blisters. He was speaking to someone parked in front of the store. I had hoped I could just slip by without stirring his attention because needless interaction is needless and it’s oh-so ingrained in us as kids to avoid any and every stranger that we grow up experts in aversion.

Of course, the moment “Don’t talk to me” crossed my lobes, he spoke. “Hey, can you help me get some food?”

I didn’t process that at first. I was dealing with that twinge in your stomach and up your back you get when someone you don’t know addresses you. Anyway, it’s not what I heard. Expectation made me hear, “Hey, you got a dollar to spare?” That’s the common one I get. It’s funny, my parents taught me, usually through example, to just ignore a bum.

As I aged, I experimented for myself, giving change or loose dollars to those that asked and, wouldn’tcha knowit?, I didn’t lose a hand. Then, a colleague of mine injected paranoia-by-scenario, explaining that, sometimes, if you elect to open your wallet for a would-be needy individual, they’d eye how much cash you’ve got tucked between the leather and produce a knife, or worse, and take much more than a crumpled dollar. But he didn’t ask for money. He straight up asked for food.

"Whatcha need?" I said calmly, that twinge rubbing my nerves.

"Anything. A coke. A honey bun. Whatever." That’s what I thought I could make out, anyway. He spoke in mumbles. I could tell he probably wasn’t much older than me, but was aged a decade by Texas’ fierce bitch of a sun.

"A honey bun?" I asked.

"Yeah," he muttered, looking like he expected me to tell him to fuck off.

"Okay. I’ll be back."

I don’t believe in God, so there’s no winning graces here in exchange for a pair of wings and velvety blowjobs. Good karma falls into almost the same bracket, though I don’t quite chalk everything up to coincidence. Coincidence, after all, is the result of an unseen catalyst that may date back a million years and end in a hard shit instead of a soft one.

The dude was just down on his fucking luck and I had a minuscule opportunity to momentarily make his life better. So I bought him his honey bun and a tall can of Arizona Green Tea to wash sugar down with liquid sugar.

Tattoo Blisters barely said thank you. He may have grunted it. He was already digging into the plastic bag I handed him. I said in my best I’m An Adult Voice, “Try to take care of yourself, man.”

Of course, that was a dumb shit thing to say. I had just taken care of him because he, in fact, could not for himself.

It wasn’t a big deal. It was so much of a not big deal, it made me wonder why more people don’t do it. Perhaps we all have a friend or parent or lover or some other caring douche in our lives that warns us handing a dollar to a homeless person will earn you a rusty pocket-blade in the gut. That, because these people don’t have our same comforts, they stop being people. Don’t buy into that shit. Look up “empathy” and practice it from time to time.