Fashion is not shallow!
First of all, a shout out to the letter "g" which staged a big comeback last night! Good to see you letter "g"! How much we have missed you! Welcome home.
And before we get to the delicious debate, let us take a moment and look around and salute your fellow prisoners. Today at a rally in the Obama state of PA, apparently tired of saying "my friends" the appropriately named, Sen. McCracker addressed the crowd with
"my fellow prisoners". Spokes-folks for the McPalin campaign say he meant to say
"my fellow Americans". Oops. Freudian slip there? Feeling every so slightly a prisoner in your own campaign perhaps, Sen. McCracker? Mon dieu.
Watching the debate turned into a relatively shallow affair. Once we listened to the beginning rhetoric, Lulu, Phoebe and I tuned the yakking to a low volume in our brains, and instead focused on the more important matters.
Low volume in a dog's brain, in case you don't know, sounds like this: notreatsjustnownotyetnotyetnotyetnotyet..... In the case of humans, or say, me, low volume sounds like this: chocolateicecreamahhhhchamplainchocolatesyummmchocolatechocolate....... You get the picture.
Here is what shallow sounds like: Why was McCracker's tie so wide? He can afford the damn tie factory, so why did he dress himself in one that is decades old? Oh. That's right. He stopped breathing new air about the time when Ronnie Ray-gun was playing the part of Mr. President. McPalin probably only has enough helium left to sort of finish the campaign rather than shop for anything that makes him look up to date.
Lulu noted that while his attire was of substance, his tailor ought to be fired. What a bad fit job. Or perhaps, just perhaps, since we are his friends (hey, he called us all "my friends" at least a dozen times) maybe he tried to look more like the average guy. Hahaha. Nah, it was probably Brioni, which as we all should know is Trumpster's choice of apparel. And we all know how popular the Donald is, with, well, the Donald. And how dapper he never looks, except to himself.
And someone in his campaign really needs to have him practice smiling in a mirror because when he cracks that fake smile, it is not only evident that it is fake, but scary enough to make small dogs run from the room in terror. Only the whisper of Louboutin and jambon could make them reappear.
The other guy,
That One, as McCracker refers to Senator Obama, looked very elegant in his nicely cut suit, which fit quite nicely. Although Lulu was not sure it was Zegna, she was sure there would be a recognizable label in there. And the tie was subtle and perfect. The color very calming. It was considerate of him to wear something so nice to look at.
Sure, not everyone is going to want or be able to afford a Zegna, but who doesn't like looking at nice stuff. Just last week Lulu and Phoebe were coveting a William Wegman dog bed, but it was too expensive so they won't get one, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't admire the look, the cut, the material and workmanship. Lulu will never own a pair of Christian Louboutin's (shhh, don't tell her!), but that doesn't mean she'll stop ordering them with her pretend credit card. We all enjoy looking at nice stuff even if we will never buy it for ourselves.
Now let us move on to even more shallow attributes. Why in the world was McCracker breathing like Darth Vader? Too much medication? Why was he constantly licking his lips? Some meds give you dry mouth so perhaps it was either an inaccurate prescription dosage, or again, the lipstick was too thick and his lips were in danger of falling off. Perhaps he and McPalin should stop sharing a stylist?
In any case, he had trouble keeping up, keeping his notes straight, and most of all he had that perplexing sneer plastered on his face. I cannot imagine anyone wanting to look at that sneer for the next four years. It reminds us of Cheney and that alone is enough to make him ineligible for anything other than being retired to the same mountain cave where Cheney currently resides.
Phoebe woofed up and said that she knows exactly why McCracker bid a quick farewell even before the cameras were finished rolling when the debate formally ended. She thought that his girdle was too tight and he was about to bust it wide open. Why else would he leave an opportunity to chat directly with a group of undecided voters? At least Obama stayed around and chatted with people. A mensch,
that one.
And let us not forget that whomever was responsible for oversight on the debate, particularly the "town hall" set up approval in the McCracker campaign will be available today for new employment. The chairs were too tall for Napoleon. He could not scoot his poor old guy butt up there easily. He needed a step stool. And even if he made it up there, watching his feet swing about only made him look even more pathetic. Hey, told you this was shallow. What do you expect from two dogs who order couture over the Internet with pretend credit cards?
All in all, it was an important debate because we saw McCracker at his best and it wasn't good enough. We saw Obama succeed in a format that McCracker was supposed to covet as his own.
My friends. Is it over yet?
66
