Dogs rule LA.
No joke. Runyon Canyon has concurrently the best dog walking AND the best star spotting; adopting mutts has replaced adopting African babies and PETA meetings have displaced AA as the hot industry networking destination. That’s cool, Mama loves me some dogs. Especially like this:
This is one happy animal– his driver is clearly sporty (the 4Runner doesn’t lie) and the dog’s chillin’ on PCH, that’s some premium air sniffing in LA– low smog with layers of seagull poop, dolphin spout and tourist trash= delicious.
There’s also plenty of this:
Fancy dogs in fancy cars– both completely coiffed. Annoying? Indeed. Deplorable? Not really. Sure, that the dog eats better than the guy who grooms him once a week. But whatever. That’s cool, it’s all a part of LA’s glamorous/third world appeal.
I’m even a fan of the dog in the sidecar. Sorry, I know it’s not politically correct, but you gotta love the fact that this dog is wearing goggles as he cruises across the often uptight Montana Ave:
I know it’s blurry but you try to park your car, take a photo and tell your kids to shut-the-hell-up at the same time! Geez. Trust me, the dog’s wearing goggles and it’s cool.
Guess what’s not cool? This nonsense:
I can almost excuse the dog in the back of a pickup– which I’m pretty sure is illegal –but so is half the crap I do behind the wheel. However, this dog’s wearing sunglasses, he’s tied down while wearing a choke collar and there’s a stuffed dog dragging under the truck bed. That’s a tad too Michael Vick for my taste, sorry. You’re a douchebag.
