dustindeckard:

(via fuckyeahcorymonteith)

This is so true.

And THURSDAY!! Where the hell is Fringe?

carlyj:

chrisfromtheict:imperiousrex:madameaesthete:iamwarmandpowerful:

Say Anything’s 20th anniversary

:D

This just made my day.

Lloyd Dobler > Everyone else.

Excuse me while I go listen to some Peter Gabriel.

Ok, this was THE date movie when I was in high school. One, that tells you a little too much about how old I am. Two, that means that if you watched it while you were in middle school, or with your girlfriends in college on DVD…well, I’m sorry, but you lose.

Cuz if you weren’t in the theatre, gripping your date’s hand, and hoping that she’d run downstairs and throw herself at him, and then stopping the next day to buy the soundtrack CASSETTE, well…you missed something really, really, cool.

because that person:

1) Won’t even try to see the other side of the political spectrum. Or the middle, even.

2) Posts things that are very inflammatory, and you know you can’t react because you’ll piss off EVERYONE you know.

3) Says stuff that’s so…just…incorrect and non-factual you want to grab him by his blonde head and smack him a time or two and say “Get it together man! You’re scaring the women and children!”

4) Then you realize, if you unfriend them, you’ll never know what the far left crazies think, or why they do the dumbass stuff they do. This would be the same reason that there’s two far right tweeps on my Twitter. Usually they make me want to cry, because they have their heads either so far up Rush Limbaugh’s ass it’s just SAD, or they end every conversation with a reference to “God” when I’m pretty sure God and politics are not compatible. Remember the story about Jesus and the money changers in the temple? Yeah, that’s the moral equivalent of God and politics today, so far as I can tell. (Don’t gasp and choke, yes, I’ve read the Bible. Not being a Christian doesn’t mean you can’t read it.)

1) Caffe Posto is what? Why? WTF? I was just in there. It all seemed copacetic at the time.

2) The paper from hell? 96% But get this: I turned it in 5 minutes before it was due. Seriously? That’s some crap. It’s not that it wasn’t DONE, it’s that I kept perfecting it until I just didn’t have any more time to make it any better. If I would have had another three days, you can bet your ass I’d have worked another three days. Ladies and gentleman, that habit is not going to get me through semesters where I’m carrying 18 hours or more. That will KILL ME when I’m carrying a heavy schedule. I know…because I’ve done it before. One big reason I don’t already HAVE this degree? Burn out. One big cause of burn out? Obsessive insistence on perfection, when “good enough” is all you need to pass the damn class.

3) One caveat to the above statement. When we were critiquing each other’s papers online, one of the other students had used sources that were 11 years old, and that were very, very, wrong. I know, because they were medically related. So, I told him he was using outdated sources, where to find updated ones, and that I knew for a fact the legislation and figures had changed, which was relevant to the point he was trying to make. He emailed me privately and bitched me out, saying that 11 year old sources were perfectly adequate for a “lower level” course, and that his figures were accurate “enough”. Um, no. If someone tells you there’s new, better, and much more accurate data available, you have a responsibility to GO GET IT. Here that, swine flu scare mongers?

4) Missed all you guys.

aimee-b-loved:

chrisfromtheict:

imperiousrex:

soupsoup:

Wow

I can’t heart this enough.

How big of a loser will I be if I steal this for next year’s Halloween? How many of you want in  on it?

Ok, so it’s not terrific. The underlying bodysuit is an old Batman costume, black, and I painted on criss-crossing gray lines to mimic the Predator’s webbed suit. The “armor” on top is obviously cardboard, painted to the color my son insisted was the correct shade. I’m uncertain. He says it’s right, who am I to argue? What you CAN’T see, and what he wouldn’t hold still for, are close ups of the “cannon” on his shoulder (actually a penlight, but still, pretty cool) and the skulls and weapons and stuff. Oh, and after we got outside? We decided he’d be just as safe, and a lot more awesome, if he was covered in alien “blood”. So we cut open the glowstick and smeared it on his chest, and splattered his armor, and put a streak on his mask, across the cheek. I didn’t take the camera out in the street, and I didn’t thin to use the Blackberry to take any pictures with the “blood” look, like an idiot. But it was mega-cool. All his buddies thought so, and really? When you’re 8, that’s all that matters.

fuckyeahtattoos :

its super tiny. i’m a fashion student and i wanted a ‘fashion’ tattoo
to kinda represent it. <——(steph-honey says: I’m not sure what’s more disturbing? That this person doesn’t know what a coat hanger stands for, or that +40 people “liked” this post without mentioning that a coat hanger is a symbol for DIY abortions, the kind we’re trying to make sure we never go back to by keeping choice legal and safe. It’s certainly NOT a “fashion” statement. Wow.)

I know. That last post was probably unreasonable. Too much.

99.9% of the time, I really don’t feel that way. I think of the pathogens as the enemy, and I think I can kick their asses, and I leave my feelings for/about the patient out of the equation as much as possible.

But sometimes? Days happen, or a series of days happen, where I’m confronted with a bigger than usual chunk of people who really try me.

Here’s what keeps me going: tomorrow I will see a patient who won’t give up, because she’s got kids who need her. I will see a guy who will drive his elderly mother into the office for IV antibiotics that she could get at home from a home health nurse, because she trusts us more, and he wants to make her happy, and less stressed. I will see people hold hands, and have lists of carefully though out questions because they are considerate and don’t want to “waste” our time with “dumb” questions. I will have people who typed a list of what meds they take, when all their surgeries were, all the doctors they see, and all the illnesses they’ve had…and it will be several pages long. It will break my heart, because it will show they’ve been in pain almost every waking hour for years. YEARS.

That’s why I keep doing what I do. To help them get better. The fact that I help the “losers” of the world get better is just a side effect, an occupational hazard.

(via thesecretpostcards)

Some days, I’m sick of saving people who won’t make any effort to save themselves.

The people who deliberately contaminate their wounds. The people who smoke 3 packs a day and can’t breathe, but bitch about how their cough won’t get better. The people who stop taking their antibiotics and don’t call us, because they felt nauseated, then are upset that their infection is worse. The people who seem surprised that only taking their TB preventative medicine when they felt like it meant that now they have full-blown TB, and that they’ve given TB to their kid, and then want to blame that on me. Fuck you. We told you what would happen. The doctor told you. I heard him. Then he wrote it on a paper for you to take home. Then he wrote a letter to your family doctor so they could tell you. Then I went over everything with you when I drew your blood. Then the P.A. went over your lab results, what medicine you needed to be taking, and how to take care of your wound when she called you later that week.

What else do we have to do? Drive to your house and do it for you? Go to hell. I’m sick of saving you. If you can’t be bothered to even try, please die already.