Hey fucktard! Yes, my dog Maggi is well trained. Yes, she will patiently sit at the door of my local gas station- unleashed-and wait while I (holding an always frightened wee Lucy in my arms) pick up smokes. Can you give me one good fucking reason as to why you felt it necessary to taunt her, you “still acting like I’m a teen but my receding hairline says more like late 30’s” piece of shit? And why, you ragging fucking moron, do you find it shocking that I stepped out and basically verbally bitch slapped you. How could that have possibly been surprising given the fact that you were overtly trying to terrify my dog?
The look on your face was, I must admit, rather amusing. Almost made it worth it. Made me wish that I had one of those shitty little super hero rings so I could raise my fist to the sky, shout some bizarre little mantra and watch as all 26lbs of Maggi suddenly morphs into a Clifford-esque sized dog but with a bad fucking attitude and just a wee touch of “the rabies.”
I’d go back into the store and pick up a bag of ripple Lays so that I’d have something to munch on while I watched her rip out your fucking throat.