Former Queen of Mean Leona Helmsley cut her two grandchildren out of her will, but left "probably" hundreds of millions of dollars to charity. Also! $12 million for her dog! On the the "Today Show," the gang puts it in context: "That's a lot of Kibbles 'n' Bits." Right. Actually, it's 9.6 million pounds of Kibbles 'N' Bits. Also, it's unendingly stupid.
A press release went around last Thursday on behalf of a woman named Ruth Regina, who makes dog wigs. A historically underserved market, we understand! The press release read, in part, "Release your Rottweiler's inner Pink! Decorate your Dog! Braid Your Beagle because Lassie's Got a Weave! This is not just another shaggy dog story!" Clearly, the Daily News could not resist these entreaties, and today published a slide show of dogs wearing wigs. We couldn't help but notice that all of the dogs in said slide show are on the smaller side. What would happen if you really tried to put this thing on a Rottweiler?
Dogs Wearing Wigs [NYDN]
From the mailbag:
Interested in turning your world from "blasé to rosé"? The New Yorkers by Cathleen Schine, featured in today's Times Book Review, chronicles the lives of some pretty lonely folk—lonely, that is, until they are rescued from anomie by some heroic canines. No simple matter of dog being (wo)man's best friend, apparently this creatively titled text establishes a rigorous mathematical framework for evaluating personhood based on doghood. Skeptical? Let's go to the evidence!
As if the L.A. dog population isn't already just a bunch of pampered assholes who crap wherever they like and expect the rest of the world to trail behind them and clean up their gilded messes with an attentive, gloved hand, the new PetsCell mobile phone promises to elevate them to another level of privileged insufferability. Soon, dog parks all over town will be filled with the abrasive chatter of cockapoos bragging to their pals out for a jog at Runyon Canyon about the shar-peis* they mounted last night at the Chateau Marmutt, coarsening an already obnoxious local canine culture.
Once in a while, Gawker Weekend gets to a page like A27 in today's Times and it all makes sense. This dog's eyes betray the wisdom and sadness of an old soul. Weird how the one walking on its nose has its physiology illustrated with that X. Are they trying to tell Paris that Tinkerbell will become faster than other canines even as her own health declines while in prison?
The New York Times mag fills a front-of-book page with a grab bag of the week's correspondence. Some of the people they print are mad, some are sad, and some are impressed. Who are these people? Why did they decide to write in? Did they read whatever they're writing about during brunch? Or, was it on a porch! Gawker Weekend will provide you with that back story.
Those chroniclers of the ridiculous at Brooklyn Paper bring us this gem of an article about folks who push their doggies around in strollers. It may be impossible to unpack the crushing depression and sadness that swirls about this story, infecting everything. We may be going home early, or forever.
What do the king and queen of weekend media do together when they're alone? We find out, all gory details intact, in this month's issue of Harvard Magazine, a once-stodgy alumni glossy that has reportedly been trying for a sexier, more 'now' sort of look ever since the presposterous 02138 started crowding the field with their famous attitude and cool thoughts about lifestyle.
I had a vegan dinner with Moby the other night during that big electrical storm and he ended up holding my rather large dog in his lap half the time ...
