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Why I Avoid Anyone Who Owns a Schnitzel Dog
There are many discharge online maiden games, one that is currently the rage has a cat chasing a Chihuahua. People playing the halting can be the cat or they can be the dog. There's besides a phone rendition of the crippled that women often play while their progeny shy knives at each more in the more room, or while they trials through pause symbols without even slowing.
That game got me rational about one of the major maid peeves in life: schnitzel dogs.
Everyone has a few warning notation in people.
Something that, if they see a fellow do, or if they see a fellow with that attribute, makes them instinctively wary and decide that the fellow isn't all there or isn't wired right.
For me it's schnitzel dogs.
By that, I mean dogs shaped like a schnitzel.
I was in DC, living with four marines.
Let's fair talk no one picked a fight with us when we went to the bar. Now you would believe that a party of marines would posses a chasm bull, or German Shepherd, or Great Dane, or some dog with a least a smidgeon of musty ass in it.
The lad that owned the domicile had two dachshunds.
I was housesitting for a few days while they camped, and couldn't go front I had to work. The two dachshunds were in heat, the female's vagina had swollen to the dab where it looked like a ripe strawberry.
The virile chaser her around the habitat for hours on end, but she wouldn't apportion it up. I would own held her down for him if it would hold shut him up.
From that moment on, I hated schnitzel dogs.
A few weeks, later, I came home early, and caught the owner of the habitat and the dachshunds watching footage.
It was of an AC-130 Spectre flying gunship killing Iraqi civilians.
He was beating off to it.
Over the years, I met many additional connections who owned tiny dogs, but never someone normal.
You always see their owners move schnitzel dogs into federal places, as if they are some kindly of safeguard shroud or something. They'll put known on the mutts, navvy loop sweaters, ribbons in their hair, even tacky scarcely hats.
They'll gibber to them, even manage the dog in their arms like a baby.
Couldn't the thing survive in the car for a few minutes? Sure it could.
Whether the whacked in the commander neurotic dog lessor could is a separate question.
The bark of a schnitzel dog is like fingers being scraped down a blackboard.
They bark incessantly, and often oscillate like atoms while doing so. One is reminded of royalty that inbred too much.
Even if I meet someone who I assume is cool, when I see they have a schnitzel dog, I run.
No matter how sane she seems, if she has a schnitzel dog, she's a psycho. Bank on it.
These days when I see someone frittering away hours on one of those unchain online lass games in which the cat tries to peril the Chihuahua, I always suppose of schnitzel dogs.
If I was Bill Gates, I'd rent Adam Viniateri to be my fellow schnitzel neutralizer. To equitable run up to any schnitzel I saw, and punt it so arduous it would second up in low earth orbit.