Okay, so it’s the Peep Awards season, and Pretty and Slow LOVE all these shows on tv about Best This and Best That and Best Supporting This and Best Supporting That and so we have to be subjected to hours and hours of fake smiles and dyed hair and Thank You to my parents and my producers and my agents and my husband and/or my wife and everybody in the world EXCEPT you-know-who???? That’s right. You guessed it. Did ONE person thank their DOG, for God’s sake? Not one, not one, not ONE!!! Every year it’s the same old, same old, same old. Not even a casual off-hand by the way a small word of thanks to supposedly Peep’s best friend, if you will.
Yessiree. Who puts up with these Peeps when they are so busy with all their artistic creativity making blockbuster movies and tv shows? Writers, producers, directors, actors, musicians? Hello. I hate to remind everyone but behind every great Peep is a greater Pup who inspires, comforts and unequivocally adores you and it would be nice if we could get a little appreciation around here, if you catch my drift. For example, someone could say, “I’d especially like to thank my dog Bruno for all of his support during the last ten years when I have worked night and day to become an overnight success. God bless you, Bruno.” But, no. Nobody ever mentions us in their acceptance speeches which tend to be BORING and LENGTHY.
Tonight even Pretty amused herself with her new computer and online chat rooms about the Golden Globes while they were on. At least, she added a new dimension to her viewing pleasure this year as poor old Slow watched hour after hour after hour of talking Peeps and complained when she didn’t know the presenters or the nominees. Yep. It was a LONG night of glitz and glamor, but I managed to snooze through most of it. Chelsea and moi commandeered the sofa, Annie grabbed the dog bed and Ollie was late to the party as usual and skulked around trying to get a few pets from Slow. He’s so predictable, and the old girl always caves.
Well, sports fans, The Red Man has lots of new challenges since he’s been home, but I’m afraid I’ll have to tell you about them later. The Peep Awards have exhausted me, and I believe I’ll call it a night. It’s a night.
I’m dreamin’ of the Academy Awards. Is it a nightmare waiting to happen?