Pup Avi The ATL Dog

@hotayhoof.fuckedup.farm

Your loving dirtbag uncle just livin like they left the kennel open, man. (He/him) Donkey, gym pup, author, technophobe, overeducated private school washout, Nice Jewish Boy, 2006 Time PotY, 3A activist, poly, theoretical slut. 36/M/ATL. 🏳️‍🌈🐕 Pupavi.com

I may have joie de vivre in barrels and an unstoppable sense of adventure, but days like this also remind me I'm not a spry all-gas no brakes take the lickin and keep on ticking 19 year old mutt anymore. Shit gets sore, yo.

T.S. Eliot called April the cruelest month what for the memory of wanton suffering and such. Ole boy never spent an August in the American southeast. It's 96 degrees at 10am. If ever there was a modern testament to humanity's addiction to collective self-flagellation this is it.

I admittedly lost touch with Havoc some time ago (our lives took us two different directions), but I'll always remember him for his no-bullshit attitude while also being uncommonly kind to those he found along the way who needed it. Losing one of our own is never fun, but... yeah...

You know how they say "get the cop out of your head"? That applies to the reporter in your head, too. That's the voice that says everything you see and hear is an existential crisis that demands an immediate response. Take some agency over your time and attention. You only have so much of either.

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Polyamory and pack culture is like the Reverse Waltons. Wake up, stretch, and grab your phone. "Mornin, pup." "Morning, lil dude." "Morning, bitch." Everyone's checked in and survived the night? Good. Let's get to it.

I only bring my sonas out around cons, the holidays, or specific situations becauss I've largely rebranded as a fulltime pup. At least for now, the paws stay off the wheel of drama. Everyone has a place in the pack regardless of who they are or what their occupation is. I've no time for edicts.

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