Happy Honda Days!

Please put an NSFW tag on this. I was on the train and when I saw this I had to start furiously masturbating. Everyone else gave me strange looks and were saying things like “what the ♥♥♥♥” and “call the police”. I dropped my phone and everyone around me saw this image. Now there is a whole train of men masturbating together at this one image. This is all your fault, you could have prevented this if you had just tagged this post NSFW.

I shouldn't have to keep saying this, but we should accept all practices and brands on Carther's Day.

awp

Imagine you’re in a meeting at work. You make a suggestion, but no one really responds. A few minutes later, Sam from accounting makes the same suggestion and your boss says, “That’s a great idea. Good work, Sam.” You begin to wonder: Did the boss like Sam’s suggestion because he phrased it better? Or because Sam is a man and you’re a woman? Later in the meeting, someone notices the coffee pot is empty and asks you to refill it. You wonder: Is your coworker asking you because you’re sitting close to the coffee? Or does the person think it’s your job? At the end of the meeting, as you get up to leave, the boss tells you that you’re doing a good job and rests his hand on your lower back as he tells the room that he’s proud of you. Again, you wonder: Is he just being friendly? Would he make the same kind of physical contact with Sam from accounting?

Then came the Hindoo of the custom-house with my tale. “Your slave,” said he, “has examined the baggage of the two Armenians, and found them to be poor travellers. It is in every person's mouth that they are Europeans, and it would have placed me under your displeasure had I let them depart; I have, therefore, brought one of them to know your orders.” The moment was critical; and the chief gave me a look, and said in Turkish, “Are you certain he is an Armenian?” A second assurance carried conviction, and he issued an order for our safe conduct beyond the frontier. I stood by, and saw his secretary prepare and seal the paper; and I could have embraced him when he pronounced it finished. It was now necessary to retreat with caution, and evince as little of the joy which we felt as possible. The chief had not considered me even worthy of a question; and my garb, torn and threadbare, could give him no clue to my condition.