I admit it, I check on Coco and Chuck all the time at dooce.com. Like, I go there, on purpose, because I'm curious what they'll make Chuck wear this time. The day he was balancing huggies on his nose was a memorable one. And the bonnet! Hoo, boy, don't get me going. Not going to spend any time pondering my rationale--I am a creature of deep mystery. I'll just add something of my own.
Elvis here, the Elvis shedding all over the Spiderman couch in my office, the Elvis who just ate about a dozen green apples as they fell from the tree, THAT Elvis, should be wearing a diamond encrusted tiara and perhaps an ermine wrap.
If that is the sort of outfit worn by the world's champeen dog farter.