The realness

saunteringvaguelydownwards:

witty-mcwitterson:

They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.

See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.
Maybe we were too much alike.

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see if your previous owner has any advice.”
____________ _________ _________ _________

To Whomever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.

First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet. Doesn’t
matter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.

Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones —-“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”

He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He’s up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some time. It’s only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.

And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this … well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is “Tank.” Because, that is what I drive.

I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve left Tank with .. and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter … in the “event” … to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this, then he made good on his word.

Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he
loved me.

If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight - every night - from me.

Thank you,

Paul Mallory
____________ _________ _________ _______

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver
Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.

The dog’s head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

“C’mere boy.”

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,” I whispered.

His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my
face into his scruff and hugged him.

“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.” Tank reached up and licked my cheek.

“So whatdaya say we play some ball?” His ears perked again.

“Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?”

Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.”

(Source: stephaniekilbury)

sigurros:

shiny new hvarf heim lp we released on record store day to independent record stores. sold out now i think…

midgefingers:

details at balmain 

(Source: naibu)

One Day While Bathing by Travis Lewis

Print available for purchase at etsy.

(Source: ianbrooks)

Where I want to live. <3

(Source: orlaylod)

(Source: thefatboylarry)

femmesandfamily:

It is not a word I throw around. I do not mean it jokingly or sarcastically.

I mean it.

Vanity is self care. It is putting on makeup at midnight just to see the way the stars glint off of red lips. It is wearing lacy underwear that no one sees. It is taking hundreds of…

sugaryumyum:

The Second Rape - Aus Rotten

(TW: rape)

Every 45 seconds a woman is raped
Our sexist culture allows no escape
The is violent crime is far from obscurity
When the rate of victims is one in three
Society conditions men to be rapists
And our indifference perpetuates it
With derogatory language that tends to dehumanize
Making it easier for men to victimize
And the pornographic images that help portray
Women as legitimate sexual prey
When sexism is embedded in our judicial system
It’s no surprise why the courts won’t listen
And the role of attacker and survivor become distorted
So the majority of rapes are never reported
The threat of rape is always there
It’s like a poison that saturates the air
A society stricken by a cancerous disease
Where men know they can do as they please
You tell me the punishment for rape
You tell me how much jail time it will take
When one out of three women will be raped
You tell me what it’s going to fucking take
Do you see me in my low cut shirt
Or high heel shoes or a miniskirt
Woman is the victim you desire
You say you can’t resist your predatory fire
You tell me why I stand guilty and accused
You tell me when I’m beaten an abused
When it’s my body that’s been raped and defiled
You tell me why I’m the one on trial
Defense attorney?: Do you know the man who “allegedly” attacked you?
Victim?: Yes I know the man who raped me.
Defense attorney?: And isn’t this man a friend of yours?
Victim?: Well I thought he was a friend of mine.
Defense attorney?: And were you drinking that night he ‘allegedly” attacked you?
Victim?: I had a drink or two but is that a crime?
Defense attorney?: I’ll ask the questions if you don’t mind!
-What were you wearing: How did you act?
Victim?: My wardrobe isn’t an invitation for a man to attack.
-I didn’t act in any way to bring this on. Why am I on trial? What did I do wrong?
Defense attorney?: Could you tell the jury why you let this happen?
Victim?: I was in shock. I couldn’t stop him.
Defense attorney?: You claim that you were raped but how do we know?
Victim?: I said no, I said no, no, no!
Defense attorney?: Isn’t it true you’re just a woman scorned?
Victim?: I’m a woman who’s been raped and torn.
Defense attorney?: Your honor, I demand that this case be dismissed,
-it all comes down to her word against his!
I may not have bruises all over my body
I may have been drinking at the party
But when I went to his room I never would have guessed
That he would force my no to mean a yes
You tell me why I’m guilty of this crime
You tell me why the responsibility is mine
When women suffer a second rape during trial
Courts help rapists to violate and defile

(Source: helenofdestroy)

Ahhh, this is really hot. <3

(Source: monsieur831)