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BUFFALO, NY — Adam Arroyo returned home from work to find his door busted down, and his apartment in shambles, riddled with bullet holes, and stained with blood. The government had paid him a visit while he was away.
Police were performing one of the many, many home raids that occur annually in the tyrannical Drug War.
Arroyo’s dog, Cindy, had been killed by police. But police raided the wrong home.
“She’s over here, chained up, and look at all these bullet holes man. Look at the blood right here,” Arroyo explained. “She was tied up in the kitchen like I tie her up every single day, and they shot her for no reason.”
“For police to wrongfully come into my house and murder my dog… It wasn’t that they felt threatened. No. They murdered my dog,” said Arroyo, beginning to tear up.
“That was my dog, man. That was my dog. They didn’t have to do that, you know. They didn’t have to do that.”
Arroyo now has to pay to have Cindy cremated. He also had to repair his door at his own cost and has had to miss work.This happened yesterday. Not only is this my city, but this happened in my direct fucking neighborhood.
Cindy was a pit bull. Not only did the police raid the wrong house, but they saw a pit bull who was chained up, unable to cause any harm and decided to just shoot her. Not once. Not twice. The poor thing was riddled with bullet holes.
I am disgusted. I am in tears.
Adam Arroyo I will do all I can to try and help you.
Reblog every single police brutality post
I’m sobbing, this is fucking ridiculous
fuck.
![Bruce Lee had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the three miles in twenty-one or twenty-two minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when running on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a half minutes per mile]. So this morning he said to me “We’re going to go five.” I said, “Bruce, I can’t go five. I’m a helluva lot older than you are, and I can’t do five.” He said, “When we get to three, we’ll shift gears and it’s only two more and you’ll do it.” I said “Okay, hell, I’ll go for it.” So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I’m okay for three or four minutes, and then I really begin to give out. I’m tired, my heart’s pounding, I can’t go any more and so I say to him, “Bruce if I run any more,” –and we’re still running-”if I run any more I’m liable to have a heart attack and die.” He said, “Then die.” It made me so mad that I went the full five miles. Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, you know, “Why did you say that?” He said, “Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.”](http://24.media.tumblr.com/fee8cc9ca8f062efbb85861a8f0e5ab2/tumblr_mgideaCyyT1s1s9jvo1_1280.jpg)
Bruce Lee had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the three miles in twenty-one or twenty-two minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when running on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a half minutes per mile]. So this morning he said to me “We’re going to go five.” I said, “Bruce, I can’t go five. I’m a helluva lot older than you are, and I can’t do five.” He said, “When we get to three, we’ll shift gears and it’s only two more and you’ll do it.” I said “Okay, hell, I’ll go for it.” So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I’m okay for three or four minutes, and then I really begin to give out. I’m tired, my heart’s pounding, I can’t go any more and so I say to him, “Bruce if I run any more,” –and we’re still running-”if I run any more I’m liable to have a heart attack and die.” He said, “Then die.” It made me so mad that I went the full five miles. Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, you know, “Why did you say that?” He said, “Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.”
(Source: insearchforknowledge, via adventurecomics)
“… we never close the door, we just leave…”
Potoo is the new official Fuck Yeah Dementia bird,
(Source: iwasteyourprecioustime)
(Source: kachasin, via fuckyeahlotrcast)
