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Love, Target, and Tumblr: WILDER WHINE wilderwhine: Rajani, Flight Rising.Every few years I rediscover this damn site and give my dragons some love.

wilderwhine: Rajani, Flight Rising.Every few years I rediscover this damn site and give my dragons some love.

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Animals, Children, and Family: influentialcreativity: disease-danger-darkness-silence: boyonetta: sao801: boyonetta: ask-daddies-fire: sao801: Do you see that? Looks like a joke image, right? Well, it isn’t. This happens in Venezuela. It looks like nobody knows how is our crisis, because I’ve talked with a lot of people (Americans, French, Canadian and even Mexican people) who really don’t know what is happening. I’ll explain the imagen. In Venezuela, we haven’t medicines, even in the hospitals. This is because a patient with hypoglycemia is being attended in this way, because the hospital don’t have dextrose for the people. This is happening in Caracas, Venezuela’s capital. But not only in Caracas, is confirmed that in Maracaibo too, and who know where too. Another cases: “I take prednisone for animals because I can’t found it anywhere and it helps me, isn’t logic, but our health can’t wait” “Confirmed, I’m medic performing in so many decadency. We even’t have privates places for dextrose for decompensated diabetics and believe me I could write for hours about so many that I’ve lived in the middle of this catastrophic crisis, where personally I’ve take with me a hurted pacient behind of a 350 because we haven’t ambulances, where we haven’t gloves for protect ourselves and a lot of  things like that, this is the reality…. It must be give “ORALLY” because the drink is rich in glucose (Sugar) for these pacients this imagen showes [She means the soda imagen] how is conected to a micromanager where it doesn’t looks very good… But it’s valid by an OROGASTRIC probe. As a heroic way, becase like we know “It’s incorrect”. I even can give my own testomony. My mom is sick, and she must work everyday, I can’t help her because my leg is broken, and my brother must help his own family. She’s in pain everyday, and the money is too hard to found. If there’s money, but there’s no medicine. And, if there’s medicine, there’s no money, because all the treatments are very expensive, like everything, for our inflation on the 1600%. Please, help us. @takashi0 @klubbhead @satoshi01 @libertybill @nunyabizni @boyonetta @steven-universe-official  I’m sorry, guys. Can you help me to spread this? :C I need that people know about Venezuela’s situation. I’m sorry for bother you. I’d be very interested in seeing more information on this. This sounds like something out of a post-apocalyptic nightmare novel. Sure thing, my friend! Since 2014, our crisis is worse with the health zone. There’s no too many medicines, and a lot of operations and treatments are delayed for this same reason. The hospitals don’t have spaces, litters or beds for the patients. If you go to a farmacy, there’s no medicine. A lot of hospitals are in a terrible state. Supplies that were lacking in public hospitals included sterile gloves and gauze, antiseptics, alcohol for medical use, scalpels, needles, catheters, intravenous solutions, nebulizers and surgical sutures. It was even common to lack basic cleaning supplies (such as bleach), which are essential to ensure a sterile environment in hospitals. Unhealthy conditions have led to in-hospital infections that could have been prevented. And this is only talking about the health zone. If we talk about the food shortage and the hyper inflation… We must do LOOOOOONG lines for hours for buy the basic food. Like flour, sugar, rice, pasta, meat, chicken….  We only can buy one time at the week, for the last number of our ID.  If you search in Google “The next Venezuela”, you’ll see we aren’t a country anymore. We are a level in the shitmeter. Christ, I’m so sorry. If there are any charities or reputable organizations we can donate to, I’d love to share links to them. ;; Y'all this shortage of necessities shit had been going on in Venezuela for at least a decade. I have never been able to help because I don’t know what charities are allowed in or out of Venezuela and I don’t trust the people who run those charities to tell the truth. Please - someone IN Venezuela. Give me a name. A valid website. Something. I will do my damnedest to make something happen, even if it’s just a few families getting fed a few days. (Love how they voted the fucker out and he’s still in power. Just. So awesome. -_-) This is the first time I see a post on this site about my country and it breakes my heart… Because I want to give you names of charities so you can actually help us but I know people that tried to donate meds and food but our fucking goverment blocked that help. They refuse to accept aid. They are so fucking sick of power that just don’t care about us. The only way we have to fight this crisis is through social media, we use twitter to find meds and food and we came up with a few apps like Donamed or Akiztá to help us find what we need.  There are a bunch of twitter accounts dedicated to locate meds, such as: @spvzla, @MedicinasEquiv, @Flapastillita, @compartex1vida, @sanandove, @Donatumed, @AyudaMedicinasV y @DonandoMedicin1 For the people out there that want to help, like I said… it’s hard to tell you how you could do that because there’s no warranty that we’ll get the help. Still, I won’t let them win so I did my research and I found a few websites that I think you guys can trust and can donate to. http://comparteporunavida.com/ —> With your donation, this people get formula and nutritional suppliments for children in hospitals and homes in need. http://www.ayudahumanitariavenezuela.org/english.html —> You can go to their online shop to buy medical supplies from a wish list, which are then delivered to those in need. https://www.soschildrensvillages.org.uk/donate/sponsor-a-child/ —> I think you can choose and sponsor a Venezuelan child. http://www.chamos.org.uk/about-us/ —> They provide financial support for children to acquire medical, educational or other essential equipment. http://www.corazonymanosenaccion.com/dona_ahora.htm —> The thing with this site is that the bank accounts they work with are from here, so I don’t know the process when it’s an international donation. The other sites I could find two gofundme created by people like you and me, I hope they mean well and that the money they receive reaches the people who really need it. https://www.gofundme.com/FoodtoVenezuela https://www.gofundme.com/help-venezuela If anyone knows more valid websites where people can go and make their donation, please feel free to add it. And of course  SPREAD THE WORD! The more we all know about the crisis, the bigger chance we have of making a difference in the lives of those who are suffering.
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Apparently, Children, and Christmas: awkward. @howtobeprada imagine if you called the wrong number and "mom?" "no this is Morgan freeman" Reply Retweet Favorite kkhendin: voroxpete: arctic-hands: therobotmonster: kuroba101: prismatic-bell: HERE’S THE THING THOUGH I used to work for a call center and I was doing a political survey and I called this number that was randomly generated for me and the way our system worked was voice-activated so when the other person said hello you’d get connected to them, so I just launch right into my “Harvard University and NPR blah blah blah” thing and then there’s this long pause and I think the person’s hung up even though I didn’t hear a click And then I hear “you shouldn’t be able to call this number.” So I apologize and go into the preset spiel about because we aren’t selling anything, etc. etc. and the answer I get is “No, I know that. What I mean is that it should be impossible for you to call this number, and I need to know how you got it.” I explain that it’s randomly generated and I’m very sorry for bothering him, and go to hang up. And before I can click terminate, I hear: “Ma’am, this is a matter of national security.” I accidentally called the director of the FBI. My job got investigated because a computer randomly spit out a number to the Pentagon. This is my new favourite story. When I was in college I got a job working for a company that manages major air-travel data. It was a temp gig working their out of date system while they moved over to a new one, since my knowing MS Dos apparently made me qualified. There was no MS Dos involved. Instead, there was a proprietary type-based OS and an actually-uses-transistors refrigerator-sized computer with switches I had to trip at certain times during the night as I watched the data flow from six pm to six AM on Fridays and weekends. If things got stuck, I reset the server.  The company handled everything from low-end data (hotel and car reservations) to flight plans and tower information. I was weighed every time I came in to make sure it was me. Areas of the building had retina scanners on doors.  During training. they took us through all the procedures. Including the procedures for the red phone. There was, literally, a red phone on the shelf above my desk. “This is a holdover from the cold war.” They said. “It isn’t going to come up, but here’s the deal. In case of nuclear war or other nation-wide disaster, the phone will ring. Pick up the phone, state your name and station, and await instructions. Do whatever you are told.” So my third night there, it’s around 2am and there’s a ringing sound.  I look up, slowly. The Red phone is ringing. So I reach out, I pick up the phone. I give my name and station number. And I hear every station head in the building do the exact same. One after another, voices giving names and numbers. Then silence for the space of two breaths. Silence broken by… “Uh… Is Shantavia there?” It turns out that every toll free, 1-900 or priority number has a corresponding local number that it routs to at its actual destination. Some poor teenage girl was trying to dial a friend of hers, mixed up the numbers, and got the atomic attack alert line for a major air-travel corporation’s command center in the mid-west United States. There’s another pause, and the guys over in the main data room are cracking up. The overnight site head is saying “I think you have the wrong number, ma’am.” and I’m standing there having faced the specter of nuclear annihilation before I was old enough to legally drink. The red phone never rang again while I was there, so the people doing my training were only slightly wrong in their estimation of how often the doomsday phone would ring.  Every time I try to find this story, I end up having to search google with a variety of terms that I’m sure have gotten me flagged by some watchlist, so I’m reblogging it again where I swear I’ve reblogged it before. But none of these stories even come close to the best one of them all; a wrong number is how the NORAD Santa Tracker got started. Seriously, this is legit. In December 1955, Sears decided to run a Santa hotline.  Here’s the ad they posted. Only problem is, they misprinted the number.  And the number they printed?  It went straight through to fucking NORAD.  This was in the middle of the Cold War, when early warning radar was the only thing keeping nuclear annihilation at bay.  NORAD was the front line. And it wasn’t just any number at NORAD.  Oh no no no. Terri remembers her dad had two phones on his desk, including a red one. “Only a four-star general at the Pentagon and my dad had the number,” she says. “This was the ‘50s, this was the Cold War, and he would have been the first one to know if there was an attack on the United States,” Rick says. The red phone rang one day in December 1955, and Shoup answered it, Pam says. “And then there was a small voice that just asked, ‘Is this Santa Claus?’ ” His children remember Shoup as straight-laced and disciplined, and he was annoyed and upset by the call and thought it was a joke — but then, Terri says, the little voice started crying. “And Dad realized that it wasn’t a joke,” her sister says. “So he talked to him, ho-ho-ho’d and asked if he had been a good boy and, ‘May I talk to your mother?’ And the mother got on and said, ‘You haven’t seen the paper yet? There’s a phone number to call Santa. It’s in the Sears ad.’ Dad looked it up, and there it was, his red phone number. And they had children calling one after another, so he put a couple of airmen on the phones to act like Santa Claus.” “It got to be a big joke at the command center. You know, ‘The old man’s really flipped his lid this time. We’re answering Santa calls,’ ” Terri says. And then, it got better. “The airmen had this big glass board with the United States on it and Canada, and when airplanes would come in they would track them,” Pam says. “And Christmas Eve of 1955, when Dad walked in, there was a drawing of a sleigh with eight reindeer coming over the North Pole,” Rick says. “Dad said, ‘What is that?’ They say, ‘Colonel, we’re sorry. We were just making a joke. Do you want us to take that down?’ Dad looked at it for a while, and next thing you know, Dad had called the radio station and had said, ‘This is the commander at the Combat Alert Center, and we have an unidentified flying object. Why, it looks like a sleigh.’ Well, the radio stations would call him like every hour and say, ‘Where’s Santa now?’ ” Terri says. For real. “And later in life he got letters from all over the world, people saying, ‘Thank you, Colonel,’ for having, you know, this sense of humor. And in his 90s, he would carry those letters around with him in a briefcase that had a lock on it like it was top-secret information,” she says. “You know, he was an important guy, but this is the thing he’s known for.” “Yeah,” Rick [his son] says, “it’s probably the thing he was proudest of, too.” So yeah.  I think that might be the best wrong number of all time. Source:  http://www.npr.org/2014/12/19/371647099/norads-santa-tracker-began-with-a-typo-and-a-good-sport It got better.
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Apparently, Click, and College: awkward. @howtobeprada imagine if you called the wrong number and "mom?" "no this is Morgan freeman" Reply Retweet Favorite fun-n-fashion: arctic-hands: therobotmonster: kuroba101: prismatic-bell: HERE’S THE THING THOUGH I used to work for a call center and I was doing a political survey and I called this number that was randomly generated for me and the way our system worked was voice-activated so when the other person said hello you’d get connected to them, so I just launch right into my “Harvard University and NPR blah blah blah” thing and then there’s this long pause and I think the person’s hung up even though I didn’t hear a click And then I hear “you shouldn’t be able to call this number.” So I apologize and go into the preset spiel about because we aren’t selling anything, etc. etc. and the answer I get is “No, I know that. What I mean is that it should be impossible for you to call this number, and I need to know how you got it.” I explain that it’s randomly generated and I’m very sorry for bothering him, and go to hang up. And before I can click terminate, I hear: “Ma’am, this is a matter of national security.” I accidentally called the director of the FBI. My job got investigated because a computer randomly spit out a number to the Pentagon. This is my new favourite story. When I was in college I got a job working for a company that manages major air-travel data. It was a temp gig working their out of date system while they moved over to a new one, since my knowing MS Dos apparently made me qualified. There was no MS Dos involved. Instead, there was a proprietary type-based OS and an actually-uses-transistors refrigerator-sized computer with switches I had to trip at certain times during the night as I watched the data flow from six pm to six AM on Fridays and weekends. If things got stuck, I reset the server.  The company handled everything from low-end data (hotel and car reservations) to flight plans and tower information. I was weighed every time I came in to make sure it was me. Areas of the building had retina scanners on doors.  During training. they took us through all the procedures. Including the procedures for the red phone. There was, literally, a red phone on the shelf above my desk. “This is a holdover from the cold war.” They said. “It isn’t going to come up, but here’s the deal. In case of nuclear war or other nation-wide disaster, the phone will ring. Pick up the phone, state your name and station, and await instructions. Do whatever you are told.” So my third night there, it’s around 2am and there’s a ringing sound.  I look up, slowly. The Red phone is ringing. So I reach out, I pick up the phone. I give my name and station number. And I hear every station head in the building do the exact same. One after another, voices giving names and numbers. Then silence for the space of two breaths. Silence broken by… “Uh… Is Shantavia there?” It turns out that every toll free, 1-900 or priority number has a corresponding local number that it routs to at its actual destination. Some poor teenage girl was trying to dial a friend of hers, mixed up the numbers, and got the atomic attack alert line for a major air-travel corporation’s command center in the mid-west United States. There’s another pause, and the guys over in the main data room are cracking up. The overnight site head is saying “I think you have the wrong number, ma’am.” and I’m standing there having faced the specter of nuclear annihilation before I was old enough to legally drink. The red phone never rang again while I was there, so the people doing my training were only slightly wrong in their estimation of how often the doomsday phone would ring.  Every time I try to find this story, I end up having to search google with a variety of terms that I’m sure have gotten me flagged by some watchlist, so I’m reblogging it again where I swear I’ve reblogged it before. This is how the whole Santa Tracker thing got started with NATO.  Also reminds me of a story.  A dude I once knew has a fancy job in computer security that has him travelling all over the world and one of my favorite stories is how this company (I was not allowed to know the name due to confidentiality clauses but I was assured it was one with strong ties to national security) had a problem where every day their servers would go down at the same time for 15 mins straight and no one could figure out why because everything checked out and it was literally supposed to be impossible for the servers to go down and so they hired him to come have a look at their servers and figure out if they were being hacked or what because according to security logs no one had been in there that shouldn’t be. The security around the server room was ridiculous. Like, he couldn’t even go in the room without the head of security and one of the vice presidents of the company in there with him.  He had to pretty much force them to let him put a small camera, encrypted data  streaming to his laptop,  in the server room overnight and then he wasn’t allowed to leave with his laptop. So he goes in and reviews the footage the next day and at the exact time stamp he has for the footage going down he sees…. The cleaning person unplugging the servers so that they can plug in their vacuum. Fifteen minutes later the vacuuming is done and the servers are up and running again. 

fun-n-fashion: arctic-hands: therobotmonster: kuroba101: prismatic-bell: HERE’S THE THING THOUGH I used to work for a call center and I...

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