Showing posts with label Crufts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crufts. Show all posts

Saturday, 5 February 2011

CHOW MEIN ANYONE?


...and just for further proof that the UK goes mad for dogs (although I don't), check out this little beauty from Crufts 2010. Crufts, in case you don't know, is a yearly dog show where dog breeders show off their pooches for prizes in the show. It's big business and gets big coverage on tv, though sadly not in my house as I would rather watch a) paint dry b) anal warts on C4's 'Embarrassing Bodies'. Whenever I've stumbled across Crufts being broadcast (usually during periods of having a high temperature and being in a feverish state and under the influence of lots of medication), I'm struck by the following observations:- 

1. Poodles - what is the frigging point of poodles? 
2. Dog owners - sometimes a little eccentric, garish-clothed, running like a big girl, tight trouser-suited showing a hint of camel toe.
3. Judges - Usually hugely-bosomed, matronly, severe haircut, big arse. The female judges also share similar characteristics.
4. Dog names - long and pompous and invariably on the lines of.. Lord Smegma of Skye in Sequin Plaid Kitten Heels III aka 'Angus'
5. Judging criteria - worryingly involves the huge bosomed one squeezing the dog's face, having a quick feel around the trossachs, lifting the tail for a quick check of the dog's arse, a subtle lubrication of the index finger without latex gloves...
6. Overuse of double entendres - '..and doesn't Tracy handle her foo-foo well in the ring'. 

Put it all together and it sums up succinctly why I despair with dogs, their owners, and Crufts. The top of the pile accolade has to go to dog owners with plactic see-through bags who shovel up dogshit and stick it in their pockets and hate poodles and poodle owners. There, I've said it...