Nosmo King
Gold Member
I've got a pretty good idea what the 'unwanted side effects' of Metamucil might be. If you've ever watched a documentary about WWII and 'buzz bombs' the dreaded V-1 rockets that plagued England during the war, you might have a good idea of the 'unwanted side effects' I've been having. Those buzz bombs would fly across the channel and onto English soil all the while emitting a throbbing pulsing buzz sound. When the sound stopped, the bomb would plummet to the ground and explode.
Well, after eating a heaping bowl of Rice krispies augmented with a handful of dried cranberries, I tend to pass wind. A long throbbing, pulsing buzzing sound followed by silence and culminating in an explosion, of sorts. I gotta get a cheeseburger every now and then.
Meanwhile, on our walk on Sunday afternoon, Daisy and I experienced a small slice of unpleasantness. Daisy was playing with a couple of kids, rolling over, sitting up and begging and I had her perform her 'stick 'em up! BANG!' trick. The little girls squealed with delight and begged their mother to let them pet her.
Along came an obviously overfed hillbilly wearing a Duck Dynasty t-shirt and a dirty leather hat. He had two small boys of his own. Daisy frolicked up to them ready, willing and able to perform for them as well. That's when the brute put out his Brogine clad foot and kicked her away!
"You don't have to kick my dog!" I said.
"That dog does not get around my kids!" answered Li'l Abner.
"That dog is not going to bite your kids" I said "She just wants to play and charm them."
"Kids first and dogs last!" came his reply.
I wonder how one feels kicking a 13 pound miniature poodle. Does it make you feel more manly? More mature? And I wonder if he thinks it's fun to kick little dogs?
I should have kicked him in the jewels just to experience the sensation of kicking something for myself.
After he waddled away, the mother of the kids Daisy had been playing with said, in a loud and confident voice, "Sir, We love your dog!"
Well, after eating a heaping bowl of Rice krispies augmented with a handful of dried cranberries, I tend to pass wind. A long throbbing, pulsing buzzing sound followed by silence and culminating in an explosion, of sorts. I gotta get a cheeseburger every now and then.
Meanwhile, on our walk on Sunday afternoon, Daisy and I experienced a small slice of unpleasantness. Daisy was playing with a couple of kids, rolling over, sitting up and begging and I had her perform her 'stick 'em up! BANG!' trick. The little girls squealed with delight and begged their mother to let them pet her.
Along came an obviously overfed hillbilly wearing a Duck Dynasty t-shirt and a dirty leather hat. He had two small boys of his own. Daisy frolicked up to them ready, willing and able to perform for them as well. That's when the brute put out his Brogine clad foot and kicked her away!
"You don't have to kick my dog!" I said.
"That dog does not get around my kids!" answered Li'l Abner.
"That dog is not going to bite your kids" I said "She just wants to play and charm them."
"Kids first and dogs last!" came his reply.
I wonder how one feels kicking a 13 pound miniature poodle. Does it make you feel more manly? More mature? And I wonder if he thinks it's fun to kick little dogs?
I should have kicked him in the jewels just to experience the sensation of kicking something for myself.
After he waddled away, the mother of the kids Daisy had been playing with said, in a loud and confident voice, "Sir, We love your dog!"
A whole week of dreary drab weather. I thought I was going to lose my mind (what's left of it anyway) 
