I know that being a celebrity comes with a lot of perks, but it also comes with the loss of ones privacy. I can no longer go to the market and shop. Ok, I never went to the market anyway. But now, even if I wanted to pretend to be a commoner and buy a can of dog food at Walmart, I would be chased back to my limo buy the blinding lights of cameras. What barbarians!
Yes, you guessed it. I’m hounded by the puperazzi. Who are the pupperazzi you ask? Well, they are a certain breed of dog (cough, Rotweiller) that bottom dwell and make their living by harassing A-listers like myself. They doctor photos to make me look like I’m not bikini ready, I’m in a cult, I’m dating George Clooney or even worse, I’m ugly!
I’ve held my head high and ignored them for far too long. The current issues on the news stands have my hackles up. I merely dropped my Chanel bag while giving a homeless man a quarter and they went crazy snapping shots of me. Obviously they used Photoshop!
Signing off for now,
Dolly The Pug
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