This is why I have this. Even if they can get the lock opened they can’t push the door open. Got it at Lowes for $20.
reblog for that last bit to save a life
If you’re like me and have a large gap under your front door (someone could take a stick and just poke the leaning stick style door jam out), I recommend the Addalock. It’s small, perfect for traveling, and this lock is CRAZY. It’s so simple but the door does not move.
You can’t see it from the other side, either. It also cost about $20, and I can’t recommend it enough. Easy to travel with, too! Great for Air BnBs!
That’s why I have these on my doors. They get drilled into the side and once its flipped over the door nothing is getting it open. Not the door being unlocked nothing, I’ve unlocked the door and pulled and pushed as hard as I could and it didn’t budge. When I go on a trip this is what I use and when I’m home I leave it on too. No one is getting in here.
Okay I know that it is necessary for many but what do you do if you need medical attention and you’re not able to open the door from the inside? Can the fire department get through these at least?
Yes. The fire department can and will break down your door if necessary, it’s one of the reasons they have axes; it’s entirely possible for door frames to melt/expand/seize or otherwise become unopenable during a house fire but the door itself can be hacked down. Or the window. In rare cases, the wall. Firefighters don’t fuck around with collateral damage when lives are at stake.
oh hey new guide thinggg~ some basics on how to practice! there’s SO much I could add to this, so it’s just the basics :O
short (kind of): there’s more to practice than doing something repeatedly, it’s also learning new things, problem solving, and honest critique. Each of those is its own skill…also be nice to yourself!
Bartender: thanks for stopping that bar fight, spiderman. Can I get you a drink? It’s on the house
Peter: thank you, but I can’t
Bartender: why not
Peter:
Bartender:
Peter, trying not to give his age away: I’m pregnant
Bartender, shook: oh, congratulations, boy or girl?
Peter, now in full-on panic mode: it’s an uh, spider
I’m seeing stuff in the notes about “Miles would do this” and I just want to say: you’re absolutely right. All Spider-folks across all universes share one (1) singular brain cell and most of the time it’s Gwen’s.
As the current author of Spider-Gwen, I can attest that Gwen has not seen the brain cell in years.
I FOUND IT
I finally lay my eyes upon this glorious post myself
TIL astronaut Jack Schmidt discovered he was allergic to moon dust, which is a thing millions of other people have probably gone their whole lives never knowing.
Imagine being one of only twelve guys ever to have the honour of walking on the moon and then when you get there you’re allergic to it.
NASA scientist: you’re back early
Jack Schmidt: moon’s an allergen
NASA scientist: …what?
Jack Schmidt, loading an epipen and climbing back into the shuttle: moon’s an allergen
if one in twelve humans who have been on the moon was allergic to moon dust, that’s either a one-in-a-million chance or a VERY common allergy
The fact that it’s such a statistically useless sample is DEFINITELY driving a handful of very specialized scientists absolutely crazy
cheating is not “bound to happen” i’ve been alive almost 24 years and not once have i ever thought “hey i wonder what it’d be like to go outside of my relationship and destroy a persons self esteem and ability to trust”
never bitch
cheating is an active choice. its not second nature. and if it is second nature to you, then you need to do some real soul searching and figure out what the fuck went wrong in your life
i saw this post earlier about therapists and it reminded me of my old therapist paul, who in my opinion is one of the greatest men alive and who did not put up with my bullshit for even one second
anyway i go in to see paul one week in the summer of 2016, and i’m doing my usual bullshit which consists of me talking shit about myself, and paul is staring at me, and then he cuts me off and says that he’s got a new tool for helping people recognize when they’re using negative language, and gets up and goes over to his desk
and i’m like alright hit me with that sweet sweet self-help article my man, because i’m a linguistic learner and whenever paul’s like here i have a tool for you to use it’s pretty much always an article or a book or something
paul opens a drawer, takes something out, and turns back around. i stare.
i say, paul.
is that a nerf gun.
yeah, says paul.
i say, are you gonna shoot me with a nerf gun in this professional setting.
he happily informs me that that’s really up to me, isn’t it. and sits back down. and gestures, like, go ahead, what were you saying?
and i squint suspiciously and start back up about how i’m having too much anxiety to leave the house to run errands, like it was a miracle to even get here, like i’ve forgone getting groceries for the past week and that’s so stupid, what a stupid issue, i’m an idiot, how could i–
a foam dart hits me in the leg.
i go, hey! because my therapist just shot me in the leg. paul blinks at me placidly and raises an eyebrow. i squint again.
i say, slowly, it’s– not a stupid issue, i’m not stupid, but it’s frustrating me and i don’t want it to be a problem i’m having.
no dart this time. okay. sweet.
so the rest of the hour passes with me intermittently getting nailed with tiny foam darts and then swearing and then fixing my language and, wouldn’t you know it, i start liking myself a little more by the end of the session, which is mildly infuriating because paul can tell and he’s very smug about it
anyway i leave his office and the lady having the next appointment walks in and i hear what’s all over the floor? and paul very seriously says cognitive behavioral therapy tools.
The “I won’t hesitate, bitch” vine but @ friends who don’t love themselves
so i’m riding the elevator up to my apartment when the emergency phone in the elevator starts ringing
and i just stand there for a second because this thing is like thirty years old and has never rung or even been used from what i know
but eventually i answer it thinking maybe something’s wrong with the elevator?? it’s an emergency phone it’s probably an emergency??? i dunno
except i shit you not it’s a telemarketer
a telemarketer that’s as confused as i am when i finally interrupt him mid-spiel to inform him he has the wrong number and then interrupt him again to explain further that “uh, no, seriously, this is an elevator phone. i’m standing in an elevator. talking to you. on the emergency phone. i really think you got the wrong number”
“oh,” says telemarketer guy.
“yeah,” i say.
there’s some mutually-confused silence.
“so, this is my stop,” i say. “i gotta go.”
“oh,” says telemarketer guy.
“good luck,” i add, because telemarketer guy seems like he’s having an existential crisis. and then i hang up on him, because he’s having an existential crisis and won’t actually end the call, and because again i’m talking on an elevator emergency phone and, you know, this is my stop, i gotta go.
