Brace yourself, because this one's a biggie...
OHMYGOD. Now, if you're anything like me, you're hyperventilating about your hopes, dreams and internet searches all compiling themselves into one picture that, yes, IS NOT PHOTOSHOPPED. Martha Stewart's dog is apparently so well mannered that it gets to DINE AT THE PLAZA WITH HER. All caps, people, because I'm not even refined enough to act properly there, even though my mom bought me a Tiffany's etiquette book "as a joke" for Hanukkah which, please, was not a joke because I still can't figure out how to use a fork and knife without switching hands. (World's worst food writer, right here.) Isn't that what god gave me hands for? Who knows. As long as delicious calories get into my face hole, that's all that matters, in my opinion.
Anyway, the dog show is like the world's best zoo and I am obsessed. Westminster fan girl, for fucking real. I want to take a nap on a Chow Chow! I want to smoke a joint with that dreadlocked Puli dog! I want to create a fantasy football league where I rank the sheepdog as a top contender and he actually wins! I hate that I have to wait a year to get my league going, but until then, I'm definitely going to shame that poodle like he's the second coming of George Washington. Or, you know, just do whatever I can to become this guy:
Can I just say? This is way better than Fashion Week.