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Killing a dog is so 1998

As events this week have proven, any ol’ dumbass can kill a dog. But I’d argue that it takes a special kind of individual to teh ghey-bash a dog. Not only have I accomplished this (supposedly), but I’ve been taken to task for it in the media on more than one occasion.

(I also once killed a dog, way before it was all trendy.)

First of all, did everyone catch the YouTube video of that soldier torturing and killing a puppy? I’d describe it for you here, but I doubt I could really do it justice. Instead, I urge you to head over to the blog Valleywag, owned by Gawker Media (which has recently taken to posting videos that have been banned by other sites, like that Tom Cruise video), and check it out, along with five other clips of our best and brightest behaving badly.

Supposedly, the clip had to be taken down because angry PETA-types were posting the guy’s address and shit in the comments section and threatening to kill him. But I wouldn’t be surprised if someone with the military ordered YouTube to take the video down, for PR purposes. As I mentioned, briefly, in my post about how Will Smith had the Church of $cientology sue one of these damn gossip sites into oblivion, YouTube has been known for that sort of thing.

I might have to expand on that one day in a post, even though I’m pretty sure I already did here once. When you’ve written upwards of 500 fairly substantial posts for a site, as I have, you have a tendency to forget half of the shit you’ve written.

As was the case with a post I once wrote, back before there was a such thing as (er, at least in its current state), about the time when the teh ghey community tried to come down on me (no homo) for supposedly teh ghey-bashing a dog.

The story begins back in 2005, when I was living with this guy I went to high school with and his dog. Nullus. Also, sometimes his girlfriend, who suffered from some issues with her pituitary gland, would be over with her dog.

I had always suspected that my roommate’s dog might be teh ghey, because it just didn’t seem to have a whole lot of scrap in it, and it would whine like a bitch when it needed to go outside to take a piss. (Then it would just take a piss right there on the floor, which makes me wonder if it didn’t just enjoy whining). But I had never actually seen it do anything teh ghey until this one day.

I was sitting there on the couch watching Entourage, with my roommate and his dog, and his girlfriend and her dog, when all of a sudden his dog just starts raping the side of the couch next to where I was sitting. Then my roommate yelled at it, and then it went over by the door, where it would sleep sometimes, and started blowing my roommate’s girlfriend’s dog, which was also a male dog. It was disgusting.

Traumatized, I mentioned later in a post on my site that if it would’ve tried that shit on me, I would have been left with no other choice but to kick the living shit out of it. And that I almost certainly would have been justified, in that actual human beings have been killed for less. If a girl can tase a guy for tackling her and trying to rape her in an alley (not that girls ever get “raped” this way), certainly a guy can kick the shit out of a dog for trying to rape him, no?

Well, that’s what I thought.

A few weeks later, some fruits with a fake newspaper called the New York Blade tried to make me seem like a homophobe (pshaw!) by tying my comments about this teh ghey dog in with some shit I had said about Kanye West. Namely, that his mother may have turned him into a teh ghey person by making him dress like a fruit as a kid, because he lacked a strong male influence in the home.

When I was a kid, every once in a while my mom would try to get me to wear some shit that was a little bit fruity (she didn’t know any better – she was a woman), and my old man would be like (and I’m paraphrasing), “He can’t wear that, he’ll grow up to be a faggot!” It occurred to me that Kanye West, like many black kids these days, didn’t have any such guidance as a youth.

However, it wasn’t like I was suggesting that Kanye West was gonna burn in hell because he’s teh ghey. Remember, I don’t believe in any of that shit. Religious people do. I was just saying. Maybe if the guy had more of a male influence growing up, he wouldn’t be such a fruit.

And the shit about the dog, didn’t have anything to do with Kanye West one way or another. The fellow with the Blade (nullus) just saw it on the front page of my site and tried to use it as a smoking gun in his case that I’m some sort of homophobe. Just because I object to being sexually attacked by a dog, and might result force to prevent that from happening. Pfft!

A few months later, my roommate’s teh ghey dog managed to make its way into a story about me in the local alt-weekly here in St. Louis, the Riverfront Times. I hadn’t planned this at all, it just sort of happened.

A guy from the paper (and I’m not gonna mention his name, because I know mentioning the names of rape victims without their consent tends to be frowned upon), was coming over to my house to work on the story. Nullus. Knowing the kind of shit this dog is into, I locked it in my roommate’s bedroom, in the rear of the apartment.

After a while, the guy from the paper heard the dog in the back room whining like a little bitch (as usual), and was like, “Why don’t you let it out?” As if I was being abusive by keeping it locked up in a back room, where it couldn’t rape anyone. (Just like Southerners do with their imbred children.)

So I let the dog out, and, wouldn’t you know, it ended up raping the guy. Not the couch where the guy was sitting – the actual guy. It mounted the guy’s leg, and it grew a rod that I wasn’t aware that a dog was capable of growing, and it went to town.

I was like, damn.

I didn’t realize it was gonna be in the story, but I should’ve known something was up when the RFT sent a broad to my place a while later to take a picture of the dog. I had told my roommate about it though, and he had arranged for the dog not to be there the day she came. I didn’t know what was going on, because I spend a lot of time sleeping. I thought the damn thing might have run away.

My roommate was upset, perhaps understandably so, that we used to give him so much shit about having a teh ghey dog – I think in part because he was already pissed that we used to call him Rainbow, because of some extracurricular shit that took place in Colorado that I really shouldn’t get into. The last thing he needed was for the world to know that he had a teh ghey dog.

So the dog ended up in the story, but without a corresponding picture or anything. But for whatever reason (probably because he’s white, and you know how white people love dogs), this teh ghey guy who read the story seized upon the fact that my roommate had a teh ghey dog that was known to rape people, and wrote an angry letter to the RFT, again trying to cast me as a homophobe.

(Note: I tried to find a link to the letter on the RFT website, but it’s probably since been taken down. Maybe because it was such bullshit.)

Oddly enough, he used the same tactics as the teh ghey newspaper, trying to link my comments about Kanye West to my issues with this dog. But then this guy took it one step further by using the time-honored tradition of trying to suggest that I was teh ghey, just because I had an issue with a teh ghey person, or in this case, a teh ghey dog.

Which is roughly tantamount to suggesting that a female rape victim had it coming because she was dressed like a slut – only worse, because it’s not true. Also, in this case, I wasn’t even the one that had the issue with the dog. I just happened to be in the room where the shit went down. No homo.

It just goes to show a) the extent to which white people love dogs, even more than they love people, especially black people (right, Common?); and b) the extent to which teh ghey people are willing to take certain liberties with the truth in order to defend Kanye West, whom they clearly see as one of their own.


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