A long while ago, I'm not quite sure when, was the first time I saw a gas pump with a screen for ads. I felt a strange sort of hollow sadness. For a while, in a peaceful evening, a gas station could feel oddly serene. During summer when the night's air was still warm, and all that was around was the buzzing of a fluorescent light, and the boundless trill of insects. When the lights above you stood in bold contrast to the blackened cerulean of the sky, and the only thing standing between you and stumbling into the station for some snacks was a lightly cool breeze. Now one must be advertised to. Again. And again. The harsh white LCD steals your eyes. Purchase product. Purchase. The unwelcome narrator pierces the still air with his pre-recorded pitch. Purchase. Sign up for Rewards. Purchase.
#miloposting someone from the nonprofit we fostered milo from is giving us his food and deworming meds, and our other dogs phoebe and ivy are really warming up to him. this might be his forever home!
ok another life update his name isnt actually rocky we're still coming up with names, i got a little to confident with that name chances are its gonna be milo