The Westminster Dog Show is a hellscape packed to the gills with Midwesterners and dogs who receive more attention and have better lives than at least 40 percent of the world. The amount of misplaced love and resources funneled into these pooches on a daily basis is enough to make a stone-cold sober person uneasy. But recently I discovered that being thrust into the middle of the whole ordeal, while tripping acid, is a great way to kill an afternoon.