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Archive for March, 2017

In Trader Joe’s grocery store I found a bag of four bagels for five dollars. As I was turning them over in my hand a young man asked me if I was finding everything okay. I told him I was trying to figure out why theses bagels were so expensive. He informed me they were both Gluten and GMO free. I dropped them like they were evil and asked him if they had any gluten loaded bagels with a touch of GMO?  He gave me a horrified look and walked me over to the sane people bagels much like he was making the walk of shame.

I don’t remember why, but he started telling me about this diet he was on called the blood diet. I was about to ask him if he was a vampire but he seemed to think I actually cared and went on to explain how you eat food according to your blood type.

I know people breathe, I had the same stunned silent reaction. I am here to tell you there is indeed such a thing as the blood diet. Because I value your readership I went ahead and looked it up. Dr. Peter D’Adamo is the creator of a diet where you eat very specific foods according to your blood type. This diet will make you feel better, give you energy and enrich your life. As an added bonus it proves that not all doctors graduated at the top or even middle of the class. Right Dr D?

This ‘diet’ takes no other factors into consideration, just blood type. For example, All you 3 million Americans who suffer from Celiac disease you may want to check your blood type before you try the blood diet. If you happen to have blood type ‘A’ you will probably have a very painful death as type A blood type dictates you can only eat wheat and other grain related products. 

To add insult to injury your exercise will also depend on blood type. So while you blood type A celiacs will be cramping massively due to your gluten heavy diet at least you will be in agony while attempting the downward dog from the reverse warrior position.

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Quinn, our Anatolian Shepard mix firmly believes that like cat poop and cat vomit, pizza is mana from the gods.

 I put two pizza crusts on the kitchen table, went to the fridge to get the fixins’ to make the pizza and when I turned back to the table one of the crusts was gone and for some reason Quinn was high tailing it out of the kitchen. 

When at a dog rescue event a friend of ours commented how good Quinn was, lying down quietly amongst all the chaos. Then somebody showed up with a slice of pizza, illusion of good dog shattered as Quinn stood his 98 pounds up on his hind legs to get nose to plate. 

We brought pizza home. I was at the counter putting a few slices on a plate when Quinn stole one out of the box. Naturally I went after him, my wife joined the fray. such behavior is simply not acceptable.  I had my plate in my hand. We got him cornered, I bent down and retrieved the stolen slice from him. At the same time he stole one off my plate. He has no remorse, no guilt. I dare say he looked somewhat proud.

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My wife and I are very lucky living on the side of a mountain in Central Pennsylvania. Clary, our 100 pound Great Pyrenees loves the woods. We have made a habit of going on daily walks down one of the three trails that run through our 11 Acres. Every now and again when walking the trail furthest from our house Clary decides she doesn’t want to walk anymore she will stop and sit. Getting her to move forward is akin to moving a mule that doesn’t want to be moved. The only direction she will go is home dragging me the entire time.
I was telling one of my co-workers about Clary’s refusal to go into the woods, he told me she probably hears the barking dog.

 At the furthest point on the trail, mainly in the fall when the leaves have fallen off the trees you can just make out a little hunting shack on the next ridge, sometimes there is a little smoke from a fire and one can hear a dog barking and if you squint just right you can just see it running back and forth barking it’s fool head off. 

“Well, there  is that dog in that hunting shack off the back of our property” 

“You have seen and heard this dog?” He asked?

“Not often, but yes”

“Have you met the owners?”

“No, I can’t even figure out how to get to that house, there doesn’t seem to be a road or path that leads to the house.”

My co-worker looked at me strangely and said, “I guess it’s time somebody told you about the barking dog.”

Seventy five years ago a young family built and lived in that house lived off the land in true homesteader fashion. Nobody is sure exactly what made the young man snap but one evening he shot and killed his wife, both his children and the dog, set the home on fire sat down on the front porch where he perished in the flames. To this day nobody goes near the place, some still claim to hear the dog barking. Hunters who try and hunt the land say it is barren of all wildlife and in the wee hours of the morning some see wisps of smoke coming from where the house used to stand.  

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