The coming weekend has all the markings of getting out of control; and--for a controller--that is a Bad Thing.

First, the Dachshund Winterfest is expecting 300 to 400 dogs and their owners. This is the most adorable of the kooky things that go on here on South Beach, but the hype has reached seismic levels. There will be doggie fortune telling, massages, speed dating, and much more. The annual singing of the Dach Song will be once again sung by all like some Hitler Youth rally as the dogs parade behind a German accordionist. Only two business have been allowed to participate. Dogma, a gourmet hotdog restaurant will host the first-ever mini-hotdog eating contest for the dachshunds and right next to them with be The Palace serving "Weenie Martinis" to the little spoiled monsters.

All this sounds great, except my arch enemy, the doer of all things written badly, The Miami Herald, trumpeted the event with a long article which thrilled its third grade level readers with this: "Also on tap: Dogma Grill will oversee the Hot Dog Hot Dog Eating Contest, and drag queens from the Palace Bar & Grill will serve water at the Weenie Martini Station." That trashy, Castro-obsessed paper is out to get me. From the moment I started working with the organizers I never mentioned donning any of the stunning sequin gowns I own to serve "martinis" to the dogs. Now I feel people will come up to the table and be tragically disappointed and perhaps make some snide comment (much like all my friends have who forwarded the article to me).

Then there's the Latino Night on Sunday; this is already generating enough sparks to light a city in Iowa. But there's time to plan a strategy on crowd control there; first I have to survive, reputation intact, the dachshund nightmare. Presumably, The Herald hasn't been tipped off on my outfit for Sunday night.