A small fat bird, like the above, is the hieroglyph used in Ancient Egyptian to mean “wicked” or evil”.
The phrase above him (the inscription should be read from the top down) is “Nb s3″ or “Lord of the son of”. Genitive is usually implied in this sort of phrase without a connecting word, meaning:
This birb has literally created the sentence and declared himself “ Lord of the Son of Evil”
God dammit, I realised I made a mistake doing this from memory- the first sign is “k” for “your”, not “nb” for “lord”. So this birb has declared himself “your evil son”, not “the lord of the son of evil”. Which is not quite as dramatic, but still very menacing. You go bird.
Whittier, Alaska, is a town of about 200 people, almost all of whom live in a 14-story former Army barracks built in 1956. The building, called Begich Towers, holds a police station, a health clinic, a church, and a laundromat. Its hallways resemble those of a school . One can often find residents shuffling around in slippers and pajamas.
Because the winters are so ferocious, the town’s only playground is indoors.
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This is some dystopian young adult novel bull.
To be fair pretty much all of Alaska is some dystopian young adult novel bull in one way or another.
I have only been to the outside of Whittier, that one time I took the ferry from Valdez, and it’s grim-looking as hell.
This also neglects to mention that the only ways to reach Whittier are either the aforementioned ferry, bush plane, or a 2.5 mile-long, approximately 15′x15′ tunnel through a mountain that looks like this inside:
The AKDOT website reassures us that “During the 1964 Good Friday Earthquake (the greatest magnitude earthquake ever recorded in North America) the tunnel suffered no significant structural damage and no cave-ins.”
Also please note that though most of the population now lives in the Begich Towers, the townspeople used to reside in the Buckner Building, which is now abandoned and just. Sitting there. Empty. The building that used to be a whole town. Looking super fucking haunted:
“The constant sound of cascading water echoes throughout the complex. Bears have been reported both wandering the upper floors in the spring and hibernating on the lower floors during winter.”
that last building isn’t abandoned, it literally says the bears live there now.
ok so I don’t usu reblog this stuff here but last year I had a horrible experience with an Airbnb host who threatened to bust my kneecaps, stalk me and murder me right? And not only did I GO TO THE POLICE before cancelling the reservation, but I also provided copies of that documentation to Airbnb customer service (I should mention after hunting down that number in the depths of the stupid internet and being on hold for an hour). Did they give me a refund for the months I’d paid in advance? No – they accused me of lying!
A few weeks later in a fit of desperation, a coworker suggested I tweet to Airbnb. Ok. I have maybe 30 followers on Twitter, and didn’t really use it at the time, but I thought, fuck it. Nothing to lose now. I made a half assed attempt at an overly indignant tweet with plenty of capitalization, and you know what happened?
Within the HOUR. It was taken down. I was DMed by a CSR. And I was given a FULL. REFUND.
$1500 like THAT.
I don’t know what kind of dystopic fucking reality we live in where police reports mean nothing and the PR value from a half assed tweet to 30 followers outweighs the safety of my kneecaps, but. Social media… Lesson learned, I guess.
Rebooting this addition because holy shit???
PR people work in corporate HQs with actual leverage. Customer service tends to be outsourced to poorly treated, underpaid folks with no power and nothing but stress on their plates. It’s BS but yeah, that’s why things can happen that way.
Because when you complain on social media everyone can see it. You ruin their reputation. It can blow up. You can ruin the business. They’re obligated to care. I’ve skipped complaining anywhere else, I just contact the twitter people now.
The first time “Google” was used as
a verb on TV was on the show Buffy
the Vampire Slayer. In an episode from
October of 2002, Willow asks Buffy
“Have you Googled her yet?,” to which
Xander replies “She’s 17!” – and Willow
then has to clarify that Google is,
in fact, a search engine. SourceSource 2Source 3
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