“Celebrity fads,” Jamie huffed. “They aren’t even trying anymore. Now it’s just ‘rip out piece from ysteryear’s meme, substitute, and slap onto the celebutante of choice.'”

“You sound like you have a very specific example in mind,” Chelle called from the kitchen.

“Damn right I do,” said Jamie. “The T! network is doing a bit on the latest lapdog craze: pugs. They’ve got shot after shot of anorexic heiresses carrying around wrinkly little runt-dogs in designer cases and talking about how the best purebred pugs come from the Endeleri puppy farm in Istanbul.”

“I think pugs are cute,” Chelle said over the sound of dicing onions.

“It’s not whether they’re cute or not,” cried Jamie. “They just took the chihuahua craze from a few years ago and slotted in another dog! It’s like remaking a movie that’s four years old.”

“You know they do that all the time right?” No reply save an exasperated sigh. “You know you can change the channel if you don’t like it.”

“I can’t. I’m mesmerized by the glamor and pugstyle.”