Im genessis with 2 "s"( fuck your logic amy).. / .-.. .. -.- . / ... .-- .. -- -- .. -. --. / .- -. .. -- . / .-- .. - .... / .- / -- .- .. -. / -.. .. ... .... / --- ..-. / -.- .- .-- .- .. ..
This is my roleplay blog and I have no right asking this of anyone. Before I do anything I’m going to give you the story of why I’m doing so.
I went to my grandmothers to clean her floor today because she can’t bend down and do it herself and while I was taking out the garbage I heard mewing inside the dumpster and me having a motherly instinct with anything. I climbed into the dumpster and found this kitten caked in garbage, her eyes glued shut and crust coming out of her nose. As to how she got there, I’m not sure if she climbed in herself (doubtful) or if someone threw her in there. I pulled her out to no other kittens or mother in sight and trust me, I’ve had mother cats around here if she was around I’d of gotten my ass kicked.
I brought her home and my mother cleaned out the crust and the glue to the point she can open one eye and she’s got some sort of scab across her nose. She’s sniffling so bad and I’m worried as hell that she won’t make it through the night. I would love to say in this instance I live in New Mexico but I don’t, I live in a place where it’s getting so cold at night because winter is coming. No that’s not a Game of Thrones reference. It rained for a full week and this kitten is about 4 to 5 weeks old.
I don’t have a job and I couldn’t just leave her there, she cried and cried and no one came for her. I dumpster dived to save her life. She’s barely bigger than my hand. I’m short and skinny so you can imagine how tiny my hands are.
In good news, she’s eating, she’s drinking and she’s not shivering. I’ve named her “Minnie” after the iconic Disney Mouse.
I can’t afford to even take her into the vet, I’ve begged my father but he’s refusing to because he doesn’t want to pay it. I hate asking, I hate doing this but even a dollar will help me, if there’s money left over when I take her it will be used specifically on her even after that. Whether it’s food or formula, things she needs. I have cats already but not cats this young.
If that doesn’t link through send me an ask.
I will pay you back in anyway possible from fanfiction for your OTP, gif sets, icons, anything. If I could draw I would. Anything, even the shirt off my back.
I just don’t want to lose her without a fight.
If anyone that follows me donates even $1 to this cause — please let me know and I will pay you back with some icons for your muse. It’s the least I can do. ; a ;
And to the OP — thank you for having a big heart and taking this baby into your home. I will keep her in my prayers and hope that she has a quick recovery! Please keep us updated.
While I can not donate, as my free money went towards having my own precious baby Yoda put down due to serious illness. I hope others following me can help out; I’ve got fur kids and understand that is costs so much more to save a life than it does to have their pain ended.
This picture reminded me of the picture in 1965
“Hog-spitting – not just spitting,” Tonja Bulley emphatically clarifies.
“He just hog-spit at my baby. He hog-spit. He took everything out of him and spit in my daughter’s face. She is a minor. That’s the absolute worst thing you can do, when you spit on another human being. She was just saying ‘No justice, no peace’ and he hog-spit (at) and then smacked my baby. At that time — there was no more being peaceful.”
Bulley and her daughter, Brandy were released from jail last night after being arrested by police outside the St. Louis Rams game the previous day after a violent clash with football fans.
As the Rams were completing an impressive 28-26 victory over the Super Bowl champions Seattle Seahawks, Tonja and Brandy were outside the stadium participating in a non-violent protest calling for justice for Mike Brown, and the immediate arrest of his killer, Darren Wilson.
Tonja, known affectionately to her friends as “Tiny,” continued:
“We were peacefully protesting. We were saying something that this big, tall White man did not like. He should’ve been locked up, and they did not lock him up. One slapped my daughter and another hit her with his fist. Another woman threw her drink on me – and I retaliated. I’m not coming out to fight, but I have the right to protect myself.”
Tiny would eventually get punched and knocked to the ground. “I got hit by a couple people. I have a mark behind my ear.” She was initially charged with two felonies for throwing punches after the initial altercation. No violent Rams fans were arrested.
She says the racial double-standards were apparent: “We had a right to protest without anybody interfering. When the White people protest, there are no problems. Nobody is spitting on them. When we try to do it, the media goes around and acts like we started (the fighting.) We did not start it. I peacefully protest every day in Ferguson, and it’s never a problem.”
In Ferguson, Tiny and Brandy have been protesting since Brown was killed in August, and have become unofficial members of the Lost Voices—a spirited and well-known group of young leaders who led Sunday’s protest.
white people beat up a little black girl and mother and feminists are writing full articles about why being a basic bitch is a good thing
i had a crush on this guy and i decided to pull a Pavlov on him by offering him whenever i saw him this brand of candy he seemed to really like and after a while whenever he saw me he got excited for a second then you could see his expression shift to wondering the why the hell was he so happy to see me and i swear it was the evilest thing but also the most hilarious i made a guy like me by conditioning him into associating me to a candy he liked
i literally just thought to myself “wow halloween is almost over” but then i remembered that the entire month of october isnt halloween and halloween is actually only one day and hasnt even started yet
As I’m walking through Target with my little sister, the kid somehow manages to convince me to take a trip down the doll aisle. I know the type - brands that preach diversity through displays of nine different variations of white and maybe a black girl if you’re lucky enough. What I instead found as soon as I turned into the aisle were these two boxes.
The girl on the left is Shola, an Afghani girl from Kabul with war-torn eyes. Her biography on the inside flap tells us that “her country has been at war since before she was born”, and all she has left of her family is her older sister. They’re part of a circus, the one source of light in their lives, and they read the Qur’an. She wears a hijab.
The girl on the right is Nahji, a ten-year-old Indian girl from Assam, where “young girls are forced to work and get married at a very early age”. Nahji is smart, admirable, extremely studious. She teaches her fellow girls to believe in themselves. In the left side of her nose, as tradition mandates, she has a piercing. On her right hand is a henna tattoo.
As a Pakistani girl growing up in post-9/11 America, this is so important to me. The closest thing we had to these back in my day were “customizable” American Girl dolls, who were very strictly white or black. My eyes are green, my hair was black, and my skin is brown, and I couldn’t find my reflection in any of those girls. Yet I settled, just like I settled for the terrorist jokes boys would throw at me, like I settled for the butchered pronunciations of names of mine and my friends’ countries. I settled for a white doll, who at least had my eyes if nothing else, and I named her Rabeea and loved her. But I still couldn’t completely connect to her.
My little sister, who had been the one to push me down the aisle in the first place, stopped to stare with me at the girls. And then the words, “Maybe they can be my American Girls,” slipped out of her mouth. This young girl, barely represented in today’s society, finally found a doll that looks like her, that wears the weird headscarf that her grandma does and still manages to look beautiful.
I turned the dolls’ boxes around and snapped a picture of the back of Nahji’s. There are more that I didn’t see in the store; a Belarusian, an Ethiopian, a Brazilian, a Laotian, a Native American, a Mexican. And more.
These are Hearts 4 Hearts dolls, and while they haven’t yet reached all parts of the world (I think they have yet to come out with an East Asian girl), they need all the support they can get so we can have a beautiful doll for every beautiful young girl, so we can give them what our generation never had.
Please don’t let this die. If you know a young girl, get her one. I know I’m buying Shola and Nahji for my little sister’s next birthday, because she needs a doll with beautiful brown skin like hers, a doll who wears a hijab like our older sister, a doll who wears real henna, not the blue shit white girls get at the beach.
The Hearts 4 Hearts girls are so important. Don’t overlook them. Don’t underestimate them. These can be the future if we let them.
You can read more about the dolls here: http://www.playmatestoys.com/brands/hearts-for-hearts-girls
i should buy these rn for my future daughter. Why the Brazilian one have to be a light-skinned ginger tho?
seeing guys be really rude to girls and telling them to go back to the kitchen