That's it. Enough. I can't take it any longer. I have to get this off my chest or I'm going to spontaneously combust.
To all of the inconsiderate pricks who hate dogs in my neighborhood:
I try to CURB MY DOG! but he doesn't always make it there, okay?! So get off it with your little xeroxed fliers taped all over your stupid little front fence and your stupid tree in front of your stupid little apartment. I have a geographical news flash for you, you live in NEW YORK CITY. If you've decided that you don't like people or dogs or people who own dogs, I've got the perfect moving company for you, dial: 1-800-movethef#@$out. They're very handy at maneuvering your stupid furniture down your stupid stairs. And. Don't sit on your steps every day and wait for someone with a dog to come within eyesight so you can start screaming incoherently that they have to CURB THEIR DOG. Because if I see you do that one more time, I'm going to call the ambulance right before I beat the living shit out of you. Then, I'm going to take my dog right up your front steps and have him pee his little heart out right on your front porch. Then I'm going to pee my little heart out all the way down your front steps, so there.
Oh, and to the nice little lady smoking her cig'y on her bottom step? Yeah, I'm pretty sure smelling a drop of urine on the sidewalk is more dangerous than those cancer sticks you're snorting into your lungs. Yep, you totally got me on that one.
People, it's urine. And, it's on the sidewalk. Near the curb. It washes off when it rains. Adjust your meds. You'll be fine.
The Bitch with the dog.