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Bad, Be Like, and Dad: In Case of "B" Break Glass My daughter is currently pulling a D- in math. This is her phone. galexion: handmetheshovel: thatguyinthecornerino: randomavengersquotes: lolnerdsposts: robanilla: justsomeonereloadable: thesecretkeith: blanketfortprincette: tastefullyoffensive: (photo by fistfullofcookies) Why do parents always assume their kid is lazy when they get bad grades? Like maybe help your kids by talking to them, not punishing them. This is how I failed math and didn’t even know I had number dyslexia for years. When my sister was in high school she struggled a LOT with math. Like I know a lot of people find it really difficult (myself included), but I mean she was really really bad at it. She has always been a very smart, creative and sensitive person, but math made no sense to her, to the point where passing seemed impossible. I will always remember that twice a week, around the kitchen table, my sister would sit down with my dad for hours, and they would try to work out her math homework. I should mention that my dad is an artist, and art teacher. Truth be told I think he struggled with math just as much if not more then she did. But twice a week you could hear them downstairs, going back and forth, trying to figure it out together. Some nights would be smooth and easy, some nights I could hear them arguing from one floor up about factors or equations, not in anger but in mutual frustration. I remember the day that she passed. My sister couldn’t wait until my dad’s school day ended, so she called him at work. She gleefully announced to him “I got a D-!”. We could hear him through the phone as he exclaimed “She got a D!” excitedly to his class. Still through the phone we heard his students clapping, laughing and whooping in congratulations. Seldom has a grade in our household been so celebrated. Just thought a shitty picture like this should be accompanied by a story about a person’s parents who actually gave a shit about helping their kid instead of mocking and punishing them. Read the story Read the story Read the story reblogging for the story. READ IT. THE STORY If it weren’t for my dad I would not be able to read and write. I was born1971 and people really didn’t know or care that some people struggle not because they are lazy but they just fuckin’ can’t do what comes easy to most. My dad did what that father did. Dad was working 12/14/16 hour days. And still… he sat down and read up on shit, talked to my teacher - and then he saved me. Reading has made me. I am a reader. The one thing people know about me is: she reads. Be like dad. Don’t be a tit. R E A DT h eS T O R Y
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Beautiful, Bored, and Head: Here's a prime example of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix: The professor told his class one day: Today we will ex- periment with a new form called the tandem story The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As home- work tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that para- graph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another para- graph to the story and send it back, also sending an- other copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be ab- solutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and any- thing you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a con- clusion has been reached." The following was actually turned in by two of his English students: Rebecca and Gary THE STORY: (first paragraph by Rebecca) At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the second paragraph by Gary) Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. " Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the ####pit. (Rebecca) He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peace ful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Per- manently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news si- multaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and care- free, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully Gary) Little did she know, but she had less than 10 sec- onds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien em- pires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile en- tered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie. (Rebecca) This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvin- istic semi-literate adolescent. Gary) Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F-KING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!" Gary) B*tch. (Rebecca) F K YOU-YOU NEANDERTHALI In your dreams, Ho. Go drink some tea. A+ Ireally liked this one. epicjohndoe: A Very Good Example Of ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus’
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Family, Friends, and Head: anarchy404x 1d You must understand the weird logic of the left. To them life is priceless and should always be prioritised over property. They would literally let the statue of Liberty burn to save one person. Through inaction let one person starve? You monster, you literally murdered them. Reply Vote tsunderepup: randomslasher: pastel-selkie: lesbianshepard: stupid leftists and their belief in *checks notes* the intrinsic value of human life Reblog if you would burn down the statue of liberty to save a life Here’s the thing, though. If you asked a conservative “Would you let the statue of liberty burn to save one life?” they’d probably scoff and say no, it’s a national landmark, a treasure, a piece of too much historical importance to let it be destroyed for the sake of one measly life.  But if you asked, “Would you let the statue of liberty burn in order to save your child? your spouse? someone you loved a great deal?” the tune abruptly changes. At the very least, there’s a hesitation. Even if they deny it, I’m willing to bet that gun to their head, the answer would be “yes.”   The basic problem here is that people have a hard time seeing outside their own sphere of influence, and empathizing beyond the few people who are right in front of them. You’ve got your immediate family, whom you love; your friends, your acquaintances, maybe to a certain degree the people who share a status with you (your religion, your race, etc.)–but beyond that? People aren’t real. They’re theoretical.  But a national monument? That’s real. It stands for something. The value of a non-realized anonymous life that exists completely outside your sphere of influence is clearly worth less than something that represents freedom and prosperity to a whole nation, right? People who think like this lack the compassion to realize that everyone is in someone’s immediate sphere of influence–that everyone is someone’s lover, or brother, or parent. Everyone means the world to someone. And it’s the absolute height of selfishness to assume that their lives don’t have value just because they don’t mean the world to you.  P.S. I would let the statue of liberty burn to save a pigeon. 

tsunderepup: randomslasher: pastel-selkie: lesbianshepard: stupid leftists and their belief in *checks notes* the intrinsic value of human...

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Being Alone, Children, and Creepy: via VERY FAST DELIVERY nly two things are more hazardous than writing to me during these times. They are eating mussels in July and receiving a rep y from mc, both of which may leave you feverish, shaking, and alone. However, it c n also be very uncomfortable to wait day a ter day for a reply that never comes, as I have since my last letter to a dear fried Consequ ntly. I m sending you a lette containing Very Few Details. Accept my hum le thanks and fervent wishes for your continued safety. as well as the safet of the familiar-looking neighbor with whom you have never spoken. With all due respect, Lemony Snickt jesstheespeon: explainingthejoke: popsicle-prince: dark-clifford: pooguns: frenchtugboat: bowieonthebelafonte: When i was 10, I sent a letter to Lemony Snicket. I didn’t receive a personal reply, but I got one of these. 7 years later I realized that there’s a message ABORT MISSION This is fucking scary I dont get it.. @explainingthejoke The images are of a reply from Lemony Snicket, an author known for his A Series of Unfortunate Events, a book series aimed at older children. The reply is written in the voice of his narrator character. The narrator shares his pen name and frequently writes in vague references to the reader, who is included in the mystery as the correspondent to whom Lemony Snicket is sending his information. The reply is titled “via VERY FAST DELIVERY.” The letters V.F.D. play a big part in the series. The note reads:  nly two things are more hazardous than writing to me during these times. They are eating mussels in July and receiving a rep y from me, both of which may leave you feverish, shaking, and alone. However, it c n also be very uncomfortable to wait day a ter day for a reply that never comes, as I have since my last letter to a dear frie d. Consequ ntly, I am sending you a lette  containing Very Few Details. Accept my humble thanks and fervent wishes for your continued safety, as well as the safety of the familiar-looking neighbor with whom you have never spoken. With all due respect, Lemony Snicket Several letters from this note are deliberately missing. If the reader wrote down each letter that was missing, they would spell out: OLAF NEARBY Count Olaf is the major villain in the series. Lemony Snicket is writing in code, suggesting that he can’t be candid because Olaf may be observing him or the reader. Creepy! This isn’t a joke. It is just cute. Dear reader, I sincerely hope you don’t have a sizable family fortune lying about.
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