Jesus fuck maybe it's just because it's really late, but I am sick to death of hearing about fucking trolls and haters and hating trolls and hating haters who hate.
The Poster is sensing Bill is becoming Complete, and needs it no longer. It will eventually fly away on the brisk winter winds, ready to take another severely unattractive human being under its paper wing.
The cycle begins anew some where else; meanwhile Bill slides the 9mm Hi-Point between his lips while the sheriff shouts through a megaphone for him to surrender and leave the Bed, Bath, and Beyond quietly. He will show those whores and trolls. He will show them all.
Craigslist dating is like the internet equivalent of a dingy back-alley bar where pirates hang out, people get killed over the kind of post that was fraudulently attributed to the victim. Absolutely warrants criminal prosecution.
And so of course Bill mistakenly equates it to his situation. I'm going to echo the sentiment above and say the distant proximity to the dog poster is clouding his thought process.