I don't think it was dumping, sounds more like "reactive hypoglycemia".  You can Google it.

Patience, Grasshopper!

Just tell them you're having a sex change operation!  That usually shuts them up.

To all less-endowed gals I'd advise:
It's no use to obsess about size.
Yes, your A-cups can please.
You don't need double-Ds!
Lord above, you're as bad as us guys!

When you're up to your ass in alligators, it's difficult to remind yourself that your initial objective was to drain the swamp!

We caught the tread of dancing feet,
We loitered down the moonlit street,
And stopped beneath the harlot's house.

Inside, above the din and fray,
We heard the loud musicians play
The 'Treues Liebes Herz' of Strauss.

Like strange mechanical grotesques,
Making fantastic arabesques,
The shadows raced across the blind.

We watched the ghostly dancers spin
To sound of horn and violin,
Like black leaves wheeling in the wind.

Like wire-pulled automatons,
Slim silhouetted skeletons
Went sidling through the slow quadrille.

They took each other by the hand,
And danced a stately saraband;
Their laughter echoed thin and shrill.

Sometimes a clockwork puppet pressed
A phantom lover to her breast,
Sometimes they seemed to try to sing.

Sometimes a horrible marionette
Came out, and smoked its cigarette
Upon the steps like a live thing.

Then, turning to my love, I said,
"The dead are dancing with the dead,
The dust is whirling with the dust."

But she--she heard the violin,
And left my side, and entered in:
Love passed into the house of Lust.

Then suddenly the tune went false,
The shadows wearied of the waltz,
The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl.

And down the long and silent street,
The dawn, with silver-sandalled feet,
Crept like a frightened girl.

Not dumping, reactive hypoglycemia!

Go to:

http://swords.cc/ohcc/oh_card.html

HTH,

Phred

Mahatma Gandhi always walked barefoot and ultimately the soles of his feet became thick and very hard. He also was, of course, known to be a man of deep spiritual conviction. He undertook hunger strikes as a political protest and at times was both thin and frail. Furthermore, due to his weird diet, he suffered from bad breath. VERY bad breath.

In fact, in time he came to be known as "a super-callused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis."

Veni, vidi, flati !

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"to talk of many things,
of shoes and ships and sealing wax,
of cabbages and kings,
and why the sea is boiling hot,
and whether pigs have wings"
and Vickies got her surgery date,
and that is why she sings!

Apologies to Lewis Carroll

To all less-endowed gals I'd advise:
It's no use to obsess about size.
Yes, your A-cups can please.
You don't need double-Ds!
Lord above, you're as bad as us guys!