I just walked home from somewhere, and as I did so I walked in front of a house with a metal fence even indoorsy me could probably jump with a bit of effort. The sharp ends at the top were mostly ornamental, and the "dangerous dog" sign on the gate is on a dozen other properties lining this kilometre-long stretch of footpath. Behind the fence was a generic one-story brick poor people house being rented out to some islanders, fob muslims or bogan anglos by a boomer landlord.
Not much to look at. That is, until you see what's on the balcony; a generic white couple and their two beautiful furbabies, a pair of brown pitbull-looking dogs. Not pitbulls exactly mind you, but the fact they could have been mistaken for them based on head shape is not a coincidence. A dog skull and the muscles attached to it are not window dressing, they are the main weapon of an apex predator. A dog's head exists to kill and eat things. Dogs eat more than close to the bone. Furthermore, pitbulls and all other dogs with "bull" in their breed names were bred for bull-baiting, meaning that their funnily-shaped heads have been selectively bred to take down bulls for sport (are you stronger than a bull?). They look the same like a roided-up gymcel looks the same. Plus, I'm sure betting and paying to watch meant there was plenty of profit incentive to breed beefier dogs with stronger heads, so by 2019 you are really no match for two pitbull-looking dogs potentially hell-bent on killing you (especially if you are made out of the same material as cats, smaller dogs, children and elderly people, which I know I am for the most part).
As I walk past the house, the two dogs eye me and get very angry at me for existing too close to their territory (which is smaller than a tennis court, we wuz wolves) so they do the only thing they'd ever do in this situation - come up and bark at me. They are very aggravated by me threatening their shitty rental property, jumping and gnashing their teeth at me like I just punched their owners or something (which I should, they deserve it). Their foid owner, who no doubt has been dicked down more times by these units of rippling muscle than by her lanklet drug-dealer boyfriend, tells them to come back in a raspy nasally Australian accent but ultimately doesn't lift a finger to stop her two pet killing machines from trying to get over the fence and lunge at me. I'm sure if the dogs went for my throat and I was bleeding out she would sit there and scream "stop", but I'm not sure if she'd mean it while expecting somebody else to do it for her in typical woman fashion, or just be virtue-signalling for the police report her neighbours must have to contribute to as witnesses. She would probably get wet if her muscular red-dicked dogs tore out my jugular on the footpath. Even after autist-mode rightfully kicks in and I rush to cross the street to get awayfrom these fucking dogs they still bark, I have to get over the hill for them to stop making noise and running against the fence like it'll suddenly budge so they can come at me fully. Can you imagine what would have happened if there was no fence, or if the fence was marginally shorter than it actually was? These owners are useless shitstains upon humanity.
(Also to get away from dogs I don't run, I just speed-walk, believe it or not I actually somewhat understand how these creatures behave for the 30-something roastbeef inceltears gargoyle "dog mommies" or whatever you call yourselves reading this with their canine fuckbuddy on the couch with them)
The only reason roasties are able to defend pitbulls with arguments like "blame the owner, not the breed" is because most dog owners, at least where I live and in the states, are actually less intelligent than a pair of jaws on four legs that can't talk or recognise itself in a mirror. Arguments in favour of sparing pitbulls from euthanasia are in actual fact good arguments for first killing pitbulls and then removing women's right to vote (along with the rights of other subhumans that own baby-eating dogs like tattooed suburbanite white trash and melanated ghetto dwellers).
Not much to look at. That is, until you see what's on the balcony; a generic white couple and their two beautiful furbabies, a pair of brown pitbull-looking dogs. Not pitbulls exactly mind you, but the fact they could have been mistaken for them based on head shape is not a coincidence. A dog skull and the muscles attached to it are not window dressing, they are the main weapon of an apex predator. A dog's head exists to kill and eat things. Dogs eat more than close to the bone. Furthermore, pitbulls and all other dogs with "bull" in their breed names were bred for bull-baiting, meaning that their funnily-shaped heads have been selectively bred to take down bulls for sport (are you stronger than a bull?). They look the same like a roided-up gymcel looks the same. Plus, I'm sure betting and paying to watch meant there was plenty of profit incentive to breed beefier dogs with stronger heads, so by 2019 you are really no match for two pitbull-looking dogs potentially hell-bent on killing you (especially if you are made out of the same material as cats, smaller dogs, children and elderly people, which I know I am for the most part).
As I walk past the house, the two dogs eye me and get very angry at me for existing too close to their territory (which is smaller than a tennis court, we wuz wolves) so they do the only thing they'd ever do in this situation - come up and bark at me. They are very aggravated by me threatening their shitty rental property, jumping and gnashing their teeth at me like I just punched their owners or something (which I should, they deserve it). Their foid owner, who no doubt has been dicked down more times by these units of rippling muscle than by her lanklet drug-dealer boyfriend, tells them to come back in a raspy nasally Australian accent but ultimately doesn't lift a finger to stop her two pet killing machines from trying to get over the fence and lunge at me. I'm sure if the dogs went for my throat and I was bleeding out she would sit there and scream "stop", but I'm not sure if she'd mean it while expecting somebody else to do it for her in typical woman fashion, or just be virtue-signalling for the police report her neighbours must have to contribute to as witnesses. She would probably get wet if her muscular red-dicked dogs tore out my jugular on the footpath. Even after autist-mode rightfully kicks in and I rush to cross the street to get awayfrom these fucking dogs they still bark, I have to get over the hill for them to stop making noise and running against the fence like it'll suddenly budge so they can come at me fully. Can you imagine what would have happened if there was no fence, or if the fence was marginally shorter than it actually was? These owners are useless shitstains upon humanity.
(Also to get away from dogs I don't run, I just speed-walk, believe it or not I actually somewhat understand how these creatures behave for the 30-something roastbeef inceltears gargoyle "dog mommies" or whatever you call yourselves reading this with their canine fuckbuddy on the couch with them)
The only reason roasties are able to defend pitbulls with arguments like "blame the owner, not the breed" is because most dog owners, at least where I live and in the states, are actually less intelligent than a pair of jaws on four legs that can't talk or recognise itself in a mirror. Arguments in favour of sparing pitbulls from euthanasia are in actual fact good arguments for first killing pitbulls and then removing women's right to vote (along with the rights of other subhumans that own baby-eating dogs like tattooed suburbanite white trash and melanated ghetto dwellers).
