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Welcome to the BOMB.

The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

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My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my thirteen year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my two year old gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Death By Snack-sized Whoppers

I bought some of the snack sized candy bars and decided I wanted Whoppers after lunch.  It was an ordeal.

The first end was hermetically and I could not open it. Not a problem.  I  simply flipped the bag over and tried the other end. Once my mind is made up, I will prevail.

It too was cemented shut. A Jack Hammer could not open this bag. How do kids open these things?!

I refuse to be thwarted, so I found my scissor and cut the bag.   Success!

I popped the first Whopper in my mouth, split it with my teeth, allowed the innards to melt as is my preferred way of consuming Whoppers...and preceded to choke! 

I mean really choke. No-passing-air-turning-blue-Heimlich-Remover-time kind of choking. [And yes, I know the correct term is Heimlich Maneuver; however, in Nursing School Janice Newuhiwii called it the Heimlich remover (because that's what it does after all) and I have to stop to think to call it by its right name--so I usually just call it the Remover--besides, it's cuter.]

Finally,  was able to get some air passing--and it truly was a high pitched sound. And then I was able to breath normally. Crisis averted.

I went through all of that  and my reward was three (3) Whoppers

I'm now by myself and leery of attempting another bag. 

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