Society Diary: Dog dances, and bum wreaths

14 Dec 2018 Voices

Two dogs, locked in a sweet embrace, slow dancing with one another in a field. An early Christmas present

And so, we move onto the end of Diary's fifth year. This little glint in a journalist's eye has now reached school age, and should be in permanent primary education. This will also be the last Society Diary for the year so, until the New Year, wishing you a happy Christmas and all that other rubbish. 

Anyway, enough of that. Too much, perhaps. Let's look at what's happened in charity sector satire this week. 

Dancing in the… dog 

All of this week, the good people over on at the Dogs Trust’s social media team have been tweeting about, and Diary will let them speak for themselves here; “#Strictly-inspired doggy dance steps”. 

Now Diary is many things, but it’s certainly not an avid watcher of Strictly Come Dancing because, frankly, life is too short. Does this column have enough days in the week to spend time watching Darcey Bussell gently critique Stacey Dooley’s attempt at a foxtrot? No. This season was dead to Diary the second they got rid of Swanny, anyway. 

All that being said, Diary is always a huge fan of when large, national charities try and piggyback social media campaigns off the back of successful television shows. Without further ado, take a look at some of these Dogs Trust tweets:

Yes, breathe them in, all you fans of canines and dance moves. Right in the sweet spot of that bizarre Venn diagram bringing together those who are both fans of crap, reality television; ballroom dancing and cute dogs. 

There’s the ‘Fox Terrier Trot’ which is easy enough to decipher. But some of these puns probably needed a little bit more explanation. What in the name of all that’s holy is ‘the American Snoot’? Also, ‘the Rumbark’ instead of the Rumba is, genuinely, terrible. 

Anyway, let’s not be too rough, the good people at the Dogs Trust are only doing their best. And frankly Diary can very much empathise with them. It’s been a long and genuinely exhausting year and, frankly, this column can’t even be bothered to dig up the old, tired, chewed up dog puns that have been relentlessly trotted out every other Friday since about February.

Also the above crosshead was an attempt at a pun on a Bruce Springsteen song. It doesn’t literally mean dancing inside of a dog… 

Making that green

In slightly more hi-brow matters than Diary usually delves into now, and a report from Forbes which shows that legal, medical marijuana dispensaries in the United States are having a jolly hard time trying to make charitable donations using the proceeds of drug sales.

Indeed Forbes said that “several altruistic cannabis companies in the U.S. had their generous donations rejected by charities”, such as Wounded Warriors, a charity for injured veterans, and the American Cancer Society. 

Forbes points the finger of blame for this at the feet of the U.S. federal government, who have created a “legal gray zone where many cannabis entrepreneurs considering charitable contributions, or those looking to create philanthropic businesses, would rather deal abroad than in America.”

Slightly more amusingly, it was recently reported that a marijuana retailer called Hotbox Farms (delicious) had recently had a $25,000 donation to a “youth water park in Oregon returned to them”.

That's the straight dope.

No ifs, and a lot of butts

Okay, so Diary’s going to write about something now which is a bit of a stretch for this particular column, because no charity is currently doing anything about the thing we will presently describe. But look. Diary wants to suggest you’re missing a trick. Charity should be getting into this trend, big time.

What is the stupendous idea?

The butt wreath.

It seems that for some reason, this year, people have decided that what they need to do is tear the behind out of their leggings, surround it with some greenery and baubles, and post it to Instagram. Or else to do much the same, but daub it in paint and glitter, instead. 

As to why, Diary is unable to inform you. It is, to this column, utterly mysterious. Perfectly baffling. Wholly ineffable. Perhaps it’s something that only those born in the new millennium are able to understand.

But hey, it hardly matters. Look, charity sector. The point is that you’re missing out. It seems obvious that if people are going to be doing something this daft, and boasting about it on social media, you should turn it into a hashtag and demand a donation in exchange. You could call it #bumwreathselfie or the #baublebumchallenge. Or something.

There you go. You’re welcome. No thanks necessary.

See you next year.


 

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