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As for Katy Donahue, the girl that lives down the block from my cousin Jimmy who was mauled by a Pit Bull (not mine), I mean, that is a tragedy. A professor/scientist would call this a total coincidence, because the same day we decided to breed Jimmy’s Great Dane with my Pit Bull and call it a Great Pit was the same day I saw the mauled girl/Katy’s picture on the news while I was waiting for the sports highlights. No matter how bad it made me feel to know that she was mauled we couldn’t halt our plan because it was set in stone; we knew we would be minting money and pushing it around in wheelbarrows once we posted the New Dog Breed online and sent out email blasts and put up flyers around town. This wasn’t even an idea I got from an alcohol headache where my tongue had no saliva on it and I couldn’t think straight. This was the real deal. Jimmy was already breeding his Great Dane named Matilda and making a killing and he kept telling me, Sure as shit, this is legit, and Uncle Sam can’t touch it! And I thought, Tax Collectors: you can suck it, and sorry little mauled girl/Katy, these dogs will wear muzzles like half the time, so you can play outside again after the bandages come off and you grow into your new face.
Even better: I just lost my job at Mr. Bread’s Submarine Sandwich last week and they say timing is everything and everything happens for a reason and God is in control, so I have to seize the day, right? And to prepare I started to Google Dog Breeding but got distracted watching street brawls in L.A. on YouTube, the kind of videos you have to verify your age to watch, which is totally kick ass.