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🌈Ranibow Sprimkle🌈

@dewitty1 / dewitty1.tumblr.com

I was never attention's sweet center...BOURGEOIS DEGENERATE!Problematic Bisexual...Drarry Fic rec blog (ෆ ͒•∘̬• ͒)◞ Forever shipping Drarry (⁎⁍̴ڡ⁍̴⁎) Blog Est 2010
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In a truck stop bathroom washing my hands today and 2 boys, looked about 5 and 9, came in with their little sister who looked maybe 2. The following whispered conversation made my entire day

"We have to wait, there's a lady in here!"

"That's not a lady, he has a mustache! We can be in here!"

"Some ladies have mustaches! And she has boobs!"

"Well some guys have boobs! Like Uncle Jake!"

"Uncle Jake is fat!"

At this point I could not contain a chuckle and both whirled around with identical looks of panic on their faces. I smiled and said "it's alright for you guys to be in here so your sister has help, don't worry. And I'm both! That's why I have boobs and a mustache. Some folks are just built that way"

(In unison) "Ooooooh!"

(older boy) "So do you use Sir or Ma'am or both?"

"Both, but I prefer Sir"

"Cool! Well thanks Sir! We have to help our sister now!"

This was in a small town country truck stop and both boys had "Murica" type stuff on and neither of them had any issue at all with these concepts. Their mom approached me while I was in line about 10 minutes later and apologized for them bothering me in the bathroom (they had told her about the interaction) and she and I had a lovely little chat too. I got to introduce her to the term "intersex" and her reply was "I think I've heard of that before! I didn't know that was the word for it. Amazing how many different ways God can make people!"

Sometimes the world is good. More often than you might think, if you give it a chance. It's not all bad loves <3

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reblogged

Good Morning by the Daily Mirror, England, April 4, 1944

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mjsloveslave

England was at WAR and managed to do this? Really? 

Good Morning was actually a paper made by the Daily Mirror just for the men serving on submarines! They were made ahead of time by the Mirror staff and bundled up and numbered for each day, and then the four page paper would be given to the men serving on the submarines every evening. 

They had human interest stories, comics, puzzles. Happy stuff. Sometimes the journalists would go visit servicemen’s families and get a picture of their wives and kids or parents or pets, and that’d go in the paper too. Then each day there was usually, among other pictures on the back page, an attractive lady and also a funny animal picture.

Here’s a good article about it:

The sailors sat tensely waiting to die. 

Their boat had been blasted by a depth charge, lost all power and sunk to the ocean floor. Knowing they probably had little time left, the men asked if they might read all the as-yet unseen copies of the daily submariners’ paper currently locked in the safe. 

The chief petty officers agreed – how could they not? – and ripped open package after package of editions of ‘Good Morning’, which the ship’s company were soon devouring in the gloom. 

Suddenly power was restored, the sailors were saved and the boat surfaced, albeit with her messes spilling over with tabloid newsprint.

Amongst the Royal Navy submariners, the paper’s importance cannot be overplayed. “The effect on crew morale was significant,” said Royal Navy Submarine Museum archivist George Malcolmson, who has a complete bound set of every edition that rolled off the presses.“The Daily Mirror stepped in just when the service needed it most.

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STORY TIME:

I work in a decent sized, local, indie bookstore. It’s a great job 99% of the time and a lot of our customers are pretty neat people. Any who, middle of the day this little old lady comes up. She’s lovably kooky. She effuses how much she loves the store and how she wishes she could spend more time in it but her husband is waiting in the car (OH! I BETTER BUY HIM SOME CHOCOLATE!), she piles a bunch of art supplies on the counter and then stops and tells me how my bangs are beautiful and remind her of the ocean (“Wooooosh” she says, making a wave gesture with her hand)

Ok. I think to myself. Awesomely happy, weird little old ladies are my favorite kind of customer. They’re thrilled about everything and they’re comfortably bananas. I can have a good time with this one. So we chat and it’s nice.

Then this kid, who’s been up my counter a few times to gather his school textbooks, comes up in line behind her (we’re connected to a major university in the city so we have a lot of harried students pass through). She turns around to him and, out of nowhere, demands that he put his textbooks on the counter. He’s confused but she explains that she’s going to buy his textbooks.

He goes sheetrock white. He refuses and adamantly insists that she can’t do that. It’s like, $400 worth of textbooks. She, this tiny old woman, bodily takes them out of her hands, throws them on the counter and turns to me with a intense stare and tells me to put them on her bill. The kid at this point is practically in tears. He’s confused and shocked and grateful. Then she turns to him and says “you need chocolate.” She starts grabbing handfuls of chocolates and putting them in her pile.

He keeps asking her “why are you doing this?” She responds “Do you like Harry Potter?“ and throws a copy of the new Cursed Child on the pile too.

Finally she’s done and I ring her up for a crazy amount of money. She pays and asks me to please give the kid a few bags for his stuff. While I’m bagging up her merchandise the kid hugs her. We’re both telling her how amazing she is and what an awesome thing she’s done. She turns to both of us and says probably one of the most profound, unscripted things I’ve ever had someone say:

“It’s important to be kind. You can’t know all the times that you’ve hurt people in tiny, significant ways. It’s easy to be cruel without meaning to be. There’s nothing you can do about that. But you can choose to be kind. Be kind.”

The kid thanks her again and leaves. I tell her again how awesome she is. She’s staring out the door after him and says to me: “My son is a homeless meth addict. I don’t know what I did. I see that boy and I see the man my son could have been if someone had chosen to be kind to him at just the right time.”

I’ve bagged up all her stuff and at this point am super awkward and feel like I should say something but I don’t know what. Then she turns to me and says: I wish I could have bangs like that but my darn hair is just too curly.“ And leaves.

And that is the story of the best customer I’ve ever had. Be kind to somebody today.

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