Dead Pixels and Canned Meat
A female Rottweiler typically weighs about a hundred pounds. It’s considered the second most likely dog to attack and kill you.
Prior to the management position I got at the store, I’d never made over seven dollars an hour at a job. When the cost of living skyrockets around you, with little in the way of recourse you tend to get crafty if you want to sustain.
I’ve always had an affinity for animals I could never do justice with words. The sort of feeling one gets when clenching teeth too hard. Solid, dim and unfeeling until a nerve flares up.
Logic told me making a central part of my personal life a business opportunity would be nothing but heartache. I’m not a man of the internet age, and this is mine. The idea of communal enjoyment from something I can’t say aloud in any lifetime seemed too painful an irony.
Most of the time it was video. I preferred it to photographs. Too much multitasking for one man engaged in a cruel sexual rodeo with a hairy death contraption that breathed.