... And you chose to wear that?

She did, you know. No one forced her to get so dirty. I'll admit that it's a bit of an old picture, though. She's not currently modelling the patio's collection of ready-to-wear, thank goodness.

This ought to be short again today, by the way. Did I mention the part about having a head cold?

Just checking.

Oh, and before I get into the meat of what's more likely to turn out to be a disguised vegetarian platter, can I sympathise with anyone who's been in PostSecret withdrawal this morning? Bad Blogger Spambot. Bad. Go sit in the corner.

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And now on to the reason for the post's title. No, really. It wasn't actually to do with the cat.

Tonight, as every television geek (or the North American ones, at least) knows, is the Emmy Awards. I'll be watching the Emmys even though I watch a total of two series, one of which isn't nominated for a damned thing as far as I know.

What can I say? I spend more of my time watching educational -- hang on, I should put that in quotes -- "educational" programming and late night talk shows, which I record and watch in the morning juuust to screw up their demographics.

I'll be watching the Emmys. For as much of it as I can manage to keep myself awake, I'll be watching (did I mention the head cold?). Couldn't give a rat's ass who wins, for the most part, but I'll be watching.

And why?



You did ask, right?

Because of the clothes, of course.

The Emmys offer two of my favourite things in the entertainment world: nice looking men in evening dress (for those new to the program, I have a bit of a... thing for men in well-tailored suits. Tuxes = (or should = ) the best of good tailoring), and women kitted out very badly in the most expensive way possible.

I mean, seriously. Most of these women are offered unimaginable freebies from tip to toe, and yet some of them still manage to look like they visited the car wash on the way to the event but forgot to bring the car along?

I love that.

I also love listening to the so-called fashion experts the next day as they trash talk the whole thing. It makes me especially happy when one expert's Best Dressed ends up on the next's What-The-Hell-Was-She-Thinking list. It's such a perfect example of how ridiculous the whole thing is that it can't help but warm the cockles of my cynical little heart.

Yeah, I'm a little weird that way. Let me have my fun.

This year, since our local CH station was one of the ones that became a mutant incarnation of E! a couple of weeks ago, we get treated to the entire day-long (oops. My mistake. It's only five hours or so) red carpet coverage for the first time in these parts. Yay? I'll tune in out of curiosity, I suppose, but honestly I'm at a loss as to how they manage to fill all of that time. I probably don't want to know, do I?

Ah well, at least there'll be good-looking men in nice suits.

And boys, there had better be a few more bow ties in evidence tonight than there were for the Golden Globes this year. A tux with a regular tie is nothing but a cheat.

Incidentally, I much prefer the Golden Globes over pretty much every other award show since the lack of host and open bar make things sooo much more entertaining. For fashion oddities, however, I'm not sure the GGs come out the winner over the Emmys or the Oscars. I'm not counting any of the music awards shows, you'll notice. There's a different between aiming to be strange looking and achieving it by accident.

Anyway, that's it for me today. The brain lasted longer than I thought it would, but now I need to grab some lunch and marry myself to the couch for a while. Gee, I love being sick. Could you tell?