#dysfunctionull

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- taught me to love myself

- accepted me for all my faults and flaws

- always listened and tried her best to help

- helped me stop cutting myself (for a long long time)

- made me realize a lot of things about my sexuality

- became the first person I could tell absolutely anything to

- gave me the motivation to eat healthy, stop smoking, stop drinking, brush my teeth, clean my skin up (my face is so much clearer now), and now I have reasons to apply for jobs and take on responsibilities I never thought I would be ready for

Things I have done for Mae:

So one day a dog is sitting on a huge-ass hill with like seven other dogs. The one dog, a stout German Shepard named Robert is ‘top dog’ and he is way cooler than the other seven dogs, but the other dogs are cool as well (obviously because dogs are fucking rad). They are all just chilling when suddenly this weird fucking dude starts walking up the hill playing the drums. Now huge plot twist, the dogs can fucking talk. So ‘top dog’ walks up to this weird dude and is like “hey asshole what’s up with the drums.” The dude stops playing the drums and kneels down and looks at the dog. And he fucking barks. Now obviously the dogs are very upset by this. They are all like “what the fuck”. So ‘top dog’ says to this guy “what is that supposed to mean, do you mean to accuse my good friends and myself of being loud, obnoxious creatures with no intelligence or manners?” This of course provokes this dumb-fuck with the drums to respond to our ‘top dog’, and although one might expect him to get all defensive, this drumming man responds as follows; “good sir, I only mean to greet you in the customary fashion that us Glemmish folk use to initiate conversation! Have you ever been to the grand city of Glem?” he asks. Now all the dogs have gathered around our Glemmish drummer and are looking intently at him, curious about the ways of this city of Glem. Now one of dogs, a cute little soft spoken pug named Gordon (pronounced Gore-Dawn) walks up to this guy and barks. The man is stunned, “how polite!” he remarks “a very kind introduction” Now dogs can’t really smile (because facial anatomy) but all the dogs seem really pleased with the above interaction which they have just observed, especially little Gordon. “So anyway,” says the drummer man, “my name is Steven (pronounced Steh-Vin [like vince]) and I am a diplomat from Glem and I have come to bring good tidings and sick beats to the nearby town of Brogurt.” He explains. All the dogs look at each other with concern and dismay. Steven notices this, his expression becoming worried. Robert looks to him and sighs, “The people of Brogurt are absolute trash, it’s a place full of rude ass fuckboys and conservative Christian women.” He says to our now dismayed friend, Steven, “they will not be accepting of your customs nor will they accept your sick beats” Steven is horrified, and looks down to his drums. “But my beats are the sickest in all the land, how could anyone regard them with anything but respect and aggressive dancing?” he asks. Suddenly a voice from the back of the pack of cool dogs speaks up with a low grumbly voice, “They don’t even allow dogs into their establishments in Brogurt, they turned us away because we don’t wear clothes and are therefore deemed ‘inappropriate’ for their ‘sacred eyes’” the voice explains. The source of the voice, an old, sturdy mastiff named Donut, walks to the front of the pack. “They’re a bunch of stuck-up assholes” he says, “they would take your drums and burn them at the stake, because to them, music that makes you groove is considered witchcraft” Steven gasps, “Witchcraft!?” he exclaims in horror, “My beats may be sick but their intentions are pure!” he adds, cradling his drums like a sweet child. Donut puts his paw on the man’s leg “I’m sorry sport but that’s the way it is, you should turn back while you can.” He says.

Steven suddenly snaps back to a confident and resolute posture, “I must do this!” he says, “I must change the hearts of these cruel folk of Brogurt. It is my duty as a Glem and my duty as a musician!” he exclaims. The dogs are taken aback by this show of duty and confidence, inspired by this, a young Chihuahua named Rolana jumps with excitement and cries out to Robert “we should take him there!” she says, “we should journey with him to Brogurt!”. Now Robert is surprised by his cohort, as are the other dogs, Donut protests “Go back there?” he says, frustrated, “Don’t you remember how they treated us?” Rolana sits and looks proudly up to Donut. “But what if we could change it?” she asks. Donut is stunned, perhaps he never considered that things could change, that the fuckboys of Brogurt could be enlightened, that the conservative Christian women could fucking chill for once in their lives. “We could do it Robert, we know the way better than any. We’ve all walked that path of shame…” says another voice. Solemnly a young English bulldog named Gehenna walks up to Robert and puts her paw on his. “This is what she would have wanted us to do…” she says. Robert remains silent, but after a moment, he nods and looks back to Steven. “We will lead you to Brogurt, but you’re on your own from there.” He says. Astonished, two twin Labrador retrievers look to Robert, “Are we really going to team up with this silly human?” the first one, Hallah asks, “We’ve only just met him, and we know nothing but what he’s told us.” Chimes in the other, Dallah. Robert gives them a scolding yet understanding look, “If no one tries to change Brogurt, more pups will suffer just as we did” he says, “do you really want that?” Hallah and Dallah look to each other, then at Steven, who smiles, then back to Robert. “Fine, we will journey with the strange drummer” Dallah says, “but don’t expect us to groove to the beat” says Hallah. Steven smiles at them and his new companions. “And so is formed the fellowship of the beat” says Robert. ”The journey begins”