Pitbull Terror

This morning marked the third time in three years that someone has threatened to stab me in Easterhouse and I am beginning to wonder...is it an annual event or something? Do these people have a date circled in their calendar that they decide this is the day we are going to threaten that boy with the Alsatian?

I can’t understand their motives, I don’t understand these people and ‘people’ is a generous word to call them - or him.

I don’t even really know who it is to be honest, these Neds all look the same don’t they? And I certainly wasn’t hanging around to get a close description of this person.

I have had this conversation with myself a long time ago, I have blogged about this before and that’s what is so frustrating about it, I thought this sort of shit was in the past, for a minute, I almost fooled myself into thinking that this was a good place to stay.

But one guy with a monster Pit-bull and a bottle of Buckfast has tainted that image, once again, thank you very much.

Where does it get to the stage that a man has to say to another man, “you wait there, I’ll be back in five minutes and I’m gony fucking stab you, in the chest, you’re getting plugged, where do you stay? Where do you stay?”

In all seriousness, am I supposed to wait there in the middle of the fields, covered in mud, with my dog on a leash, for this guy to go home, put down his drink, get a knife and come back to stab me...in the chest, of all places, of all fucking places, it's pretty frightening that he was so articulate in his description of where he was going to pierce me.

Sarcasm aside, I can tell you I pretty much said nothing to this man other than tell him to calm down. What upset this man so much? I don’t really know.

I was out in the fields, my dog was off the leash, I lost sight of my dog then all of a sudden I can hear this guy shouting “get that fucking dog on the leash, get that fucking dog on the leash.”

Now my dog comes back into my sight, the guy is still shouting, I never heard my dog or his dog bark which means I know for a fact that my dog didn’t attack him or his dog so I am thinking what is the problem here?

So he still shouts and hurls abuse, for no reason, telling me that his dog would have killed my dog (I never seen the bottle of Buckfast at this point) and I say, “aye, he’s on a leash now awrite.”

But the guy continues to hurl a lot of shit and I can just say “look, am I supposed to see through the trees or something, I never saw you and that’s it.”

There must be a defence mechanism in Ned’s that whenever someone answers them back, they immediately go into self destruct mode and decide that because someone, who has every right to stand up for themselves, has answered them back then they are going to stab them.

I don’t understand that.

I don’t get it.

It’s like a complete U-turn from rational, civilised, social, normal fucking human being way of thinking, they just skip those logical parts and go straight to the most extreme scenario and that is him coming to stab me.

In retrospect, maybe I shouldn’t have made the tree comment but I’m not even trying to entertain that thought because I don’t think I was either in the wrong or cheeky.

I don’t think these people should be allowed to just bully the neighbourhoods that they live in but they do, these people run the streets, no doubt about it.

Thankfully he never went home to get his knife or blade or axe or whatever weapon of choice he had in mind, instead, he proceeded to walk towards me with his fucking gigantic Pit-bull to offer me a demonstration of his dog killing mine and presumably me and him rolling about the mud fighting.

No thanks.

I had to run away, which is probably the most cowardly thing one could do in that situation but there is no way that I was going to fight this man. I do feel a bit daft though because I bet he’s thinking that he’s so great because he can intimidate me and I guess he did, I ended up coming back from the fields pretty paranoid and scared that this guy was coming to get me.

I saw him a few hours later swinging a pole with his Pit-bull terrier looking for me. Crazy bastard!

Now I’m peeping out my window like that famous Malcolm X photo, only difference is he had a gun.

I wonder who would be running if I had one of those?

He shouldn’t have a dog, I have never saw one of these Ned’s with a wee terrier, nah, they need big Pit-bulls and Rottweiler’s to feel mighty, but the thing is, if they are so great at fighting, why would they need a dog to protect them?

If only I had a pet lion.


Should have done that game report instead...should have done that game report instead...Should have done that game report instead...