I like some things, I don't like other things

(Source: teenytinee, via rambleready)

18mr:

Yesterday, Arvind Mahankali, 13, won the Scripps National Spelling Bee, making him sixth in a tear of Indian American spelling bee champs. So we wondered: why South Asian kids? We discovered that Shawn Kanungo has undertaken painstaking personal research to answer this very question.

Congratulations on your win, Arvind! For the rest of us, here are some thoughts to chew on.

Career for a lifetime

henrytheworst:

“Computers don’t make errors. What they do, they do on purpose.”

-Dale Gribble

(via cuteboybaths)

fyeahvbo:

flagrantly undermining Catalina’s “Suddenly Slim” brand, one VBO at a time. 

I know it is difficult to get a VBO in a pic and a face, but lets not be the headless fat* folks portrayed by the news whenever they do an obesity scare story.
*When I say fat I obviously mean bodily attribute, nothing to do with health status, laziness or whatever baggage crumbums wanna attach to it.

I was hospitalized in some shit hospital that didn’t feed me because I was vegan and they “forgot” to order a vegan meal, and no nurse or orderly was kind enough (probably more likely extremely overworked) to get me food from the kitchen. They also wouldn’t allow me to share food with other people because they needed to record how much we are eating.

I felt extremely unsafe there, there were homeless folks who were weary of street life and just wanted to get admitted to the psych ward. Food, bed, treatment for psych problems and showers. Only people who could “prove” themselves were admitted. A woman stripping in a crowded hallway defecating and using her gown to try and hang herself on the door knob to the bathroom was met with “you’re not really doing it” “you’re putting pressure on the back of your neck.”

And they had things segregated In the hallways by sex except that they put me next to a man who kept touching me. He also had scabies. He kept touching me above the breast below the collarbone while I was trying to sleep.

Most people spent the night there and were given a bus token when they left.

Before I ended up on the psych floor, I was changed into a gown in a hallway in full view of drunk men who leered and yelled. A few of them were tied to their beds. Not with restraints designed for the purpose but something improvised.

Ugh. The worst part is this hospital is a fucking asshole. My insurance co paid them 6500 and unlike EVERY OTHER hospital won’t lower their rate. I owe 2500 still for the most demoralizing visit ever. If it did anything for me, it was make me more thankful to have left California.

(Source: eyeonspringfield)