For the Texas-Clemson game, instead of beer I took whatever insulin dose the numbers called for, then grabbed 1/3 of a shrinkflated Snickers Bar (est 17g) to enjoy it over 4 hours nibbling while listening to the game on a clock radio because our entertainment system is stalled out like a Tiger tank in a tar pit.
All was good, no "popped eyeball" high blood sugar symptom. Then I remember I forgot to take my Prednisone, the whole thing that once I take it all maybe my kidney heals and I get off this insulin. Alright already.
Get back upstairs, and my feral Chihuahua is acting like a failed silent film star in an opium den. She got into my last smidge of Snickers Bar. I snatch the remnants of the candy intact out of her gullet. There wasn't much left for her to eat, like a finger-tip joint size nub. I am guessing maybe a gram or two was chocolate, and it's crappo waxy American chocolate so actually less than that.
I'm like "What the hell's the matter with you, dog? You're not supposed to eat chocolate."
"You ain't shposed eat chocolate either motherfucker," she astutely ripostes
Tried contacting various money-extraction machines, I mean, vets. Then I'm like "she eats full candy bars worth of cat shit logs and is still here, harden the fuck up Australia."
Now she watches me, and I watch her.