It was a sunny afternoon in Newtown and after a few drinks at the Courty, some friends and I decided to head over to the park, which I now refer to as the “Lesbian Dog Park,” and no, I’m not just referring to the four-legged kind!
Yes, there were canines of all sorts, with their alarmingly similar lesbian owners. You know how they say people look like their pets? Well, have you ever heard of people acting like their pets? Let me share some examples.
I look over to my right and see a Labrador with a ball, he’s not playing with it, he’s got a rope that he is happily throwing in the air. A terrier approaches the ball. I’m sure he figures, “It’s been discarded, the other dog doesn’t want it, I want to play with it!” Not the case, so needless to say, an all out dogfight was narrowly avoided!
A lesbian is known for marking her territory. You date a girl, break up and remain friends. That’s relatively the norm (apparently.) You’re not interested in her, but as soon as someone else starts sniffing around, the teeth come out! You bound over there snarling and growling, because she’s yours, you had her first, you marked your territory, you peed on that tree, you humped that leg, you buried that bone, so you don’t want another’s scent on her! Some lesbians have more in common with our territorial canines than I ever thought possible. I am almost inclined to suggest they put themselves forward as the missing link in evolution.
I sit and watch a stocky, dominant breed with her cap backwards, tattoos up and down both arms and enough piercings in her face that I don’t even know how she is keeping that Corona inside her mouth. She sports black suspenders that I could probably link a harness onto, and of course some low hanging dog tags.
She clearly loves the sound of her own bark, yelling and chasing another smaller two legger, who is whimpering and squealing, after being pinned. She makes the smaller one plead for mercy, and as I look over to my left I see two dogs (of the literal kind) in the same position. Don’t worry, they were just playing, it was all a game of dominance…for both two legs and four.
We leave the lesbian dog park and notice the group of lesbians have left too, and are not far behind us. I hear them howling, laughing, jumping all over each other and congratulating each other on how virile they are. It’s pack mentality at it’s best! It’s all physical, no emotions, just sowing their seed and then onto the next (Well, they would if they had a seed) I giggle to myself and think, “Now I know the real reason lesbians refer to their exes as bitches.”