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Chunnel…
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The first time I met my boyfriend’s grandparents, I was terrified. First, I really wanted them to like me, and second, he told me they were pretty religious. They’re Roman Catholic, but I’m Jewish, and I didn’t get the impression from the rest of his family that that would upset them, but I wasn’t sure they’d be chill with us dating, and I’m always afraid of those unconscious, anti-semitic micro-aggressions.
Sure enough, within an hour of meeting me they asked if I was religious, in a way that was obviously asking if I had a religion, and which one it was. I calmly told them I was Jewish, and my boyfriend’s grandmother lit up. Her mother was a Syrian who moved to Brooklyn in the early 1900′s and she grew up in a Syrian and Jewish community in Brooklyn and boy wasn’t it nice to have someone around who could help her with her Jewish pastry. It was really pleasant. His grandfather was mostly quiet.
After lunch, he and I shared a cup of coffee and some cookies and I told him about my brothers. He asked if my mom was ok with me dating a gentile. And then he looked around, saw we were alone for a sec, and asked me to follow him out to the garage. In the garage he asked me to take an old picnic basket down from off a cabinet. And then he told me to open it. The moment the lid came off I knew. I knew that shade of red. He told me to take it out and lay it across the floor. It was a Nazi flag. Not just a Nazi flag, but one that was big enough to fly outside a government office, like a massive one. I laid it out, ice in my veins, trying to figure out what was about to happen next. And then he told me to take my shoes off and stand on it.
He told me his vision wasn’t good enough to get into the army, so he snuck on a ship and figured that they’d have to deal with him when he was in Europe, and that’s what happened. He told me he went because they all knew it was bad, and he wanted to help. He told me he took the flag off of some dead Nazis. He told me to go home and tell my mother that I was safe with these goyim she’d never met, that I was loved and welcome and that they’d fight for me. He told me “Never Again”.
He passed away a few years ago, and only after his death, cleaning out his closets did we find his old patches and look up his division. This quiet man who said very little but always shared a cup of coffee with me after lunch was in an anti-tank division, and he and his division liberated camps in Poland. He saw the horrors, first hand.
Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day. Today is a day to reaffirm our promise of “Never Again”. Today is a day to remember that the only way for things to get better is to fight. Today is a good day to punch a Nazi. Do it for me. Do it for Grandpa Rocco. Do it for the world.
Well, I’m crying now.
A MUST read.
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love when pets walk by like they have somewhere to be
So fun story, my oldest dog (Sagan) is very very attached to me, to the point where if you don’t watch him when I’m not around, he WILL go look for me. So one day the weather is nice at my office, so we prop a door open. I go to pee, and Sagan immediately is like “She’s been tooken I must go find her” and just quietly walks out the propped door to look for me. I get out, realize he’s not there, and jet down the street calling for him. People realize I’m obviously calling for a dog, and they’re like “Fluffy black dog? He was walking that way.” Apparently no one stopped him because he was just calmly walking down the street with like, purpose, and they didn’t want to interrupt him???? Sure enough he was sitting on the little patio off the Dunks a block away cause he knows this Bostonian bitch has a Dunks problem. But honestly you’d think he was meeting me there like we made this plan last week.
“A beautiful feeling, when someone tells you “I wish I knew you earlier”.”
— (via nizariat)

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Untitled by ezook
ok but real talk, our society has an obsession with that women NEED to have hair on their head. like it is terrified of bald women. Only Cute Celeb Pixie Cuts stand between short haired women and public distrust. culture is absolutely certain right now that if you are a girl you NEED HAIR and preferably long hair to differentiate you from An Boy, and if you are a baby you need to glue a bow on your bald head ANYWAY to denote you’re a girl who doesn’t have hair to put a bow in yet.
like if you are a bald or shaved head girl you are going to be asked if you are a cancer patient. and if you’re not you are in for the worst people have to offer. People flipped their shit when britney spears shaved her head because she was tired of being gated from leaving the house without people fixing it for her. the Trendy Female Undercut thing is partially counterculture and edgy BECAUSE it’s exciting to flirt with the taboo of ‘women with no hair’ without actually going all the way. we HATE HATE HATE bald women for some unknown reason but pump out weird thinkpieces about how Men Whose Head Looks Like a Thumb are sexy masc
Loved being bald but can’t go back because employers tell me it makes me ‘look harsh’
#bird_brilliance: Stunning Birds Photography by Aditya Chavan https://photogrist.com/bird_brilliance-aditya-chavan/?feed_id=5720
Laurel could easily be talking about both.

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i learned that when IKEA first entered the US market, they noticed customers were buying huge amounts of flower vases. Turns out, they were being used as water glasses, as the actual glasses sold there were too small to satiate Americans’ preference for ice (x)
I got too much joy out of this.
Y'all THIS is the official citrus scale. Don’t be tagging adult content as oranges when you mean grapefruit. Do it right or don’t do it at all, my dudes.

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A woman does not have to birth a child if she doesn’t want to. Simple.
i notice that tumblr dot com has their black history month banner up, and that’s nice, but i feel like any even more fun black history month activity would be deleting all the white supremacist blogs