Again, as usual, I am seated watching the archaic traditions leaving no assumptions for what is to happen at this ceremony that has been held every year since 1877.
I glance around to see the awkward familiar faces and, I imagine many other narcissists have gathered here guiltily pretending to care, making this entire ordeal infectiously annoying.
I wish I could disappear, or if I had a doppelganger to avoid nodding my head, slightly projecting my thinly broken smile to those who prematurely acknowledge my presence.
Oh, my goodness, here she comes gleefull and bubbly as usual ready to flaunt me around the arena. She better, have some treats. 🙂
My pedigree is at the core of my skewed rebel discontent because I really want to go backstage to bark and play with the other dogs.
An average Dachshund
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