Saturday, November 19, 2011

My name is Maggie


and I am a carboholic...

I know I look innocent, but behind this facade of cute warm and fuzziness lies a dark, sneaky side.

video
You will note that, despite my darker nature, I know which end of the bag I'm supposed to hold.

The thing is, these people keep leaving stuff out for me.  Or they forget to put me in my room when they go out, and the stuff is right there.  It's not like I can help myself - I'm an ADDICT, people, I have no control.

I know I'm going to get into trouble, and Lord knows, it's not helping my middle-aged spread.

But I can't help it, truly.  If I could figure out what to do with the carnage, I'd be set.
Notice that the healthiest option, the brown rice cakes, are unscathed.

I do pride myself on being methodical and relatively neat.  And I'm not sure why they get mad at me when it happens, because, really, whose fault is it??

So, please, help me.  Understand my problem.  Love me in spite of it.  You know you want to.

This message brought to you by Carboholics Anonymous - eating our way through life one loaf at a time...

4 comments:

Wanderingcatstudio said...

I understand you Maggie. We had a dog who was a pie-a-holic. No home-baked pie was safe!

deirdre said...

I knew she couldn't be the only one...

Sandra said...

right there with you, MAggie! Carbs are my downfall...

Kelly said...

awww,,,with a face like that...it would be so hard to be mad. I too have a carb addicted dog. You have met her. She is small but must have 'lept' such heights that she was able to get a hamburger off the stove and it was to the BACK of the stove. I think she and Dexter are working together.