A few other bad accessories come to mind, like toilets don't make good accessories for your face... neither do trash cans.

I did want to spend this entire post detailing the horrors and whimperings of my last few days, but I promise I won't descend into grossness (any longer), but instead springboard my complaints towards a more unsuspecting target: My least favorite accessories of all time.

The mini dog: What the bloody, freaking, toads of Ireland is this? They're certainly not dogs, although the poor things look like they're dreaming of one day actually being a real canine. I don't know why people accessorize with living animals, but I have never been a fan (I may hold an exception for snakes). And don't try to tell me this dog is better off being dressed and fussed over within an inch of his life. Dogs are happier when they get to be...dogs.

Trucker Hats: In theory, this is a fairly innocuous trend, except that it was started by whats-his-face Federline, and he looks like a snake. I've been turned off by these hats ever since and now genuine truckers everywhere have to endure a bunch of phonies trying to upscale the Trucker's comfortable habit. The only person who can kinda get away with it is Frank Rossitano on 30 Rock. But somehow we're ok with him being kinda gross.

Too much perfume: This pet peeve of mine is purely a personal thing (like the other ones aren't...ha). I'm not so sensitive that I will fall over dead in cardiac arrest or anything if I walk past someone with too much perfume on, but I will admit that a little whiff of someone's cologne or perfume gives me that annoyingly persistent headache, and a BIG whiff of perfume makes my lungs sort of squeeze up like sea anemones when you put your finger on them, and suddenly it's like breathing through a straw. Not that people have to wear less scented stuff just for allergy ridden people, but believe me when I say a little goes a long way. The perfume drenched people may not be able to smell it anymore because they've been wearing it for a thousand years and rigor mortis has set up in their nose, but everyone else thinks they smell perfectly lovely with just a small puff or two. Less is more can pretty much be applied across the board from everything to writing (oops) and make up. Less is a afternoon stroll through a rose garden... More is pouring your great aunt's Chanel No. 5 over your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

And that about sums up my energy for the day. I guess muffin tops and chipped toenail polish will have to wait for a later post (I kid...I kid...back to bed with me).