Step Away From The Chicken

I think that it's safe to say that most of us here have been drunk at one point or another. Like Thursday, for example. But timelines aside, I think that for those of us who have been overserved (by ourselves or by the kindness of others), we've all done things that we weren't exactly overly proud of the next day. And while I might have had some...interesting antics, I've gotta say that I have never been so drunk that I defiled the poultry section of a Kroger. Wait. You never...what now?

You heard me. I never defiled the poultry section of a Kroger. Then again, I am not a one 58-year old (and old enough to know better) Jerry Patterson of North Little Rock, Arkansas. According to MSNBC, "Police were called to the (Kroger) to investigate a report of a drunk man who was being verbally aggressive with store workers." You know, the being aggressive with other folks really isn't compulsory drunken behavior. Why must so many people behave as if it is? Be happy drunks! Don't be mean. Mean behavior only results in the cops being called and you likely going to jail.

When the cops got there, they found what many would consider to be your typical drunken symptoms. The unsteadiness on one's feet. The reeking of alcohol. The incredibly bloodshot eyes. And in this case, they also found an individual with a recently emptied bladder and ham breath. You see, it would appear that Mr. Patterson had allegedly "...urinated on $500 worth of chicken". Five hundred dollars worth? That's an awful lot of chicken. If it weren't so disgusting, I'd be pretty impressed.

The police report also indicted that Mr. Patterson "...also ate a large package of ham". OK, see, the chicken peeing? That I don't get. Being famished when drunk? I totally get that. There's something about all of the drunkenness that makes feel as if they are absolutely starving. And that's when everything sounds good. Hershey bars dipped in marinara sauce? Delicious. Frozen fish stick sliders (with the fish sticks still slightly frozen)? Awesome. Low-fat potato chips dipped in a jar of pre-made gravy? Breakfast! The behavior itself is totally understandable and acceptable. The arena in which this chap chose to practice this behavior, while still understandable, is not quite as acceptable as when you're doing it in the comfort of your own drunken palace.

Mr. Patterson was arrested and charged with a variety of offensive offenses, including "...public intoxication, theft of property, and criminal mischief." Criminal mischief? Geez, I'd say! I wonder when he ate the ham? Do you think he was peeing at the time of the ingestion of one of the tastiest of all of the cured and salted meats? Sometimes when you're drunk you get really obsessed with multi-tasking. Maybe he thought that he'd just go to the store, get something to eat and relieve himself all at the same time. And it worked, but it got him arrested in the process. Always thinking ahead. Always. And never pee on the chicken in the grocery store. Once you get home with your chicken, you can do whatever you'd like to it. Just don't get caught and don't be telling me about it. Weirdo.

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Happy Easter From Super Chicken

Happy Easter from Super Chicken and a rather felonious Easter Bunny. (Jay Ward was the greatest.)

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Odd Keyword Searches

People find this blog by a variety of means. (And God bless those Google boys.) But regardless as to which search engine they are using (and the majority of the time, it is a search engine), they have to put in keywords to find what they're looking for. As I have a little program called Stat Counter which keeps track of a multitude of things for me here at the blog, I am privy to what the keywords are that people are searching for. It's usually pretty easy to tell what's in the news on certain days because a lot of searches will have keywords pertaining to a hot news item. But other days, the search keywords just look like a cornucopia of crap with a one way ticket straight to this blog. I don't know if that's good or bad, but I'm going to share with you some of the search terms that brought folks here yesterday. Let's begin.

I had two requests for "rachel raye naked red tube". I don't even know what in the hell that could possible mean. Red tube? I can assume that they mean the cute and perky little cooking chick, Rachel Ray, but I have no idea what in the world the "red tube" is referring to. I can't even guess. Whatever. I certainly hope that this blog post helped them out: The Possibility of the Misperception of Scarves

I had a couple of chicken queries yesterday. One was for "chicken says weatherforcast". (Thank God that people don't need to know how to spell, nor separate words in order to find this blog.) The other was for "one legged chicken". Oddly enough, both of those inquiries were likely directed to this post: Today's News - Now With Chickens!

I receive an unimaginable number of hits from people looking for whores in London. Whores in London. Hookers in London. Prostitutes in London. People want to pay for sex when they're in London, that's for sure! Cheap whores in London. Cheapest hookers in London. Oddly enough, I get almost no inquiries for things like "How to tell if I'm riddled with chlamydia after a trip to Europe." Almost never. But I have gotten plenty of mileage, thanks to the wonderment that is the European hooker, out of this post: Economical Hookers In London. (In fact, if you Google "hookers in london" the first result will be this blog! That's a fact that brings me an equal amount of pride and shame at the same time.)

There's not a day that goes by that someone doesn't inquire as to whether or not Annette Funicello is dead. I don't know why that is. Seriously. No other celebrity on my end of things has had their mortality wondered about than Annette Funicello. I cannot explain it. Nope. Can't even come close. And the post that folks are directed to, Who Are These People & Why Are They Hot?, isn't really going to help you understand that either. But I'm here to tell you, she's alive. And I'm also here to tell you, you'll know when she's dead.

Sometimes the search terms just make me laugh. There was "i got tricked to pose nude on chatroulette" that just made me howl with laughter. Really? Tricked? By a computer? Man, do I want to know the back story on THAT one. What really has me confused is that came up not once, but twice. There are at least TWO morons out there who, inexplicably, took off their clothes with their webcam activated as they were logged onto Chat Roulette. Wow. Who are you people? And why are you looking to blogs for what to do about what ails you? Put your damn clothes on and read a book, for cryin' out loud! "what do you mean by nope" was another one that was quite a head scratcher for me. What does that even mean? Nope means nope! Nope! It's not like it's all cryptic or anything. It means nope! Odd, yet hilarious.

Look, the point to all of this is that regardless as to how you found this blog and whether or not you found it with or without your clothes on, I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks

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It's Not An Egg

It's been a while since we've had God or Jesus show up on a grilled cheese sandwich or in the back of someone's pickup truck. Not literally, of course. I'm referring to those folks that pour their Cheerios into their bowl in the morning and they go to take that first bite and look down to see those toasty O's looking like the Son of God. Next thing you know, the local TV stations are involved and people are getting ready to bid on the damn thing on eBay. So since there hasn't been a Jesus-in-an-object sighting lately, it's only fitting that there would be one around holiday time. After all, it's Jesus's birthday that's coming up. Perhaps he'd like to stop by and drop some hints for what he's like, you know?

Actually, this time it wasn't Jesus that showed up either. No, this time, some cuckoo birds from Texas claim that one of their chickens (yes, their chickens!) laid an egg (yes, an egg!) that had a cross on it (yes, a cross!). Now, listen, it might be a cross. That's hard to deny. But I'm not so certain about the whole "egg" part. Behold!

See what I mean? That IS a cross, but I don't know if that IS an egg. Here's the story according to CBS-2 in Chicago: It seems that in the town of Burleson, Texas (that's about 13 miles south of Fort Worth, in case you give a crap) a one Tracy and a one Pam Norrell have a small farm with some chickens. Every day, they do what people that own chickens do. That's right. The people go out and steal the chickens unborn children right out from under their arse so that they can make themselves some grub. Doesn't sound so tasty and delicious when I put it that way, now does it?

But one day, the Norrell's claim that one of their chickens laid an egg with a cross on it. According to those CBS-2 folks, "...this egg isn't smooth and a very noticeable cross is indented on the top." And according to those Norrell folks, this egg "...was laid 'straight from heaven' and is a message of encouragement that comes at the right time." What now?

You'd think that the folks that actually owned the chickens would know that the egg didn't come "straight from heaven" but rather, straight from the chicken's butt. They're not amateurs; why would they think that? And what sort of encouragement is it to have a deformed looking egg like that? I'm not so sure that it's very encouraging at all! Hey, your chickens are are going start laying funky looking eggs! Feel encouraged? No? Think about it some more and get back to me. Maybe then?

Pam Norrell claims that "This time of the year, we get so taken up with the presents and money and we forget about the reason. I think He (God) was just telling us he is the reason for the season." Eggs? Eggs are the reason for the season? I don't think so. Now if that chicken was laying fully wrapped presents? Well, that would be something! THAT would be the reason for the season! Gift giving! And what a gift that would be? (Think that chicken has a Playstation3 up there? That's what I'm hoping for this year!)

I'm not buying this one. First of all, that's not looking like any egg I've ever seen before. It barely looks like an egg at all. Secondly, that cross is just a little too well defined. I don't know a lot about the formation of an eggshell inside of a chicken, but I think I know enough to know that this is highly unlikely. Now, I realize that you might be thinking that the news people who went over there and did a little filming of this story for the news might have been able to tell if it was a real egg or not. I don't think that they would have because they keep referring to the cross on the egg as being 'indented'. The cross does not appear to be 'indented', it appears to be raised or embossed or not indented. Thus, I don't know if they'd know their arse from a hole in the ground, so I'm certainly not leaving this egg identifying business up to them either.

The lady seems very nice. Not very sensible and not the dangerous kind of crazy, but crazy none the less. She calls herself a farmer, yet she appears to have slightly purple hair. I've known farmers. I've never known any purple haired farmers, though. That doesn't mean they don't exist, I'm just saying. But nice or not, purple hair or not, egg or not, it wasn't sent from God. It was sent from that chicken IF it's an egg AT ALL (which I doubt that it is). But hey, if it comforts her to think that God is sending her messages from inside of a chicken's butt, good for her. Everyone needs comfort. And if she can find some sucker on eBay to pay a few grand for a fake God-send egg with a cross not indented on it, more power to her. The video of the news story is below. You can take a gander at that and decide what you think (but if you think it's an egg, I'm telling you, it's not).

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Mmm...Mmm...Mmm....Fakeroversy

We're so doomed. So, so doomed. How have we become so soft that we have let the term and/or the concept of "offensive" become so misinterpreted and mis-implemented (I don't think that's really a word, but it's what I meant, so that's what I went with)? Seriously. It's to the point where BURGER commercials are now "offensive" and must not only be pulled from the airwaves immediately, but must also have the offending company issue some sort of an apology. Good Lord, people. Check yourselves.

Today's asininity (I'm just all full of makin' up words today) and blatant fake controversy (the fakeroversy) comes to us courtesy of The California Italian-American Task Force and the National Italian American Federation. The object of said fakeroversy is Carl's Jr., the home of delicious burgers and that lovely yellow star logo. According to Slashfood, a one Jeff Capaccio, the NIAF's regional vice president for the Far West, Carl's Jr. created and perpetrated commercial advertising that depicted "negative, inaccurate and unfair characterizations" about those of the Italian persuasion. He went on to say that the ads "...only fuel further incorrect assumptions about an entire ethnic group." Wow. Those are some pretty strong accusations. Carl's Jr. must have really messed up on this one, eh? Yeah, not so fast.

The ad under fire is advertising something called the Carl's Jr. Chicken Parmesan Sandwich. It's a fried chicken breast, slathered in marinara sauce and served on a bun. Chicken? Goooood. Marinara sauce? Goood. Slathering? Goooooooooood. What's not to like? (And it looks friggin' delicious over there!) Well, if the commercial ended there, it would have probably been fine for the whiners over at the CIATF and the NIAF.

What you have is a guy sitting in his car eating this luscious sounding sandwich. He has the sauce dripping all over the place. All over his face, all over his shirt, everywhere. Apparently, the man was raised by feral wolves or something and can't figure out how to not make a mess of said sandwich. He sees a car pull up behind him (because our hero is such a genius that he's eating his sandwich and making himself a mess down at the docks) and these two big mafia like guys get out and walk toward him. Not being as dumb as someone who would be eating their sandwich in their car alone at the docks, the guy plays dead. The mafia folks, not being as smart as our hero, think that the sauce is blood and they get the Hello Kitty out of there under the assumption that someone else had already killed him and there was nothing left for them to do there. I found it amusing. Those Italian Federation people found it offensive. Wait. What?

That's right. Offensive. Apparently, according to those completely baseless claims made by those groups, that particular ad with the "mobster and garbage man characters" is only reinforcing "negative Italian-American stereotypes." How come it's not reinforcing negative stereotypes against mobsters and garbage men? How come it's not like that? I don't hear the sanitation worker's unions causing some sort of a uproar about all of this! Shouldn't they be the ones all riled up?! Well, if you consider that no one should be all riled up about this, then NO! Seriously, what is wrong with people?

Let me ask you this: These particularly complain-y groups, were they all in an uproar about The Sopranos? Because from what I can tell, they were not. But they've got their shorts bunched up over a burger commercial? How do they justify that?! That's right, they probably can't. I'm thinking that if you're going to get upset over some sort of stereotype that has to do with the Italian mafia (never mind that there is an Italian mafia and that they do shoot people on occasion, regardless as to whether they're eating a sandwich or not), you might want to make a little noise about The Sopranos. Or what about "The Godfather"? Any problems with those?! Holy crap, if those both don't depict the stereotypical Italian mafia, then I don't know what does. But I still know what doesn't and it's that damned Carl's Jr. commercial. (And really, if any group should be "offended" by this ad, shouldn't it be chickens?) The commercial is below. See for yourself.

This is a perfect example of a fakeroversy. It's just a bunch of people wanting to be victimized and just making stuff up in order to try and appear that way. And Carl's Jr., by caving into their newly created fakeroversy, only fuels the fire for this sort of thing to be guaranteed to happen in the future again. What are they afraid is going to happen if they tell groups that allege to be "offended" to go blow themselves? Do they not realize that the majority of the American public is just waiting, waiting for a company to tell one of these allegedly offended organizations that they don't care if they're offended because whatever it is isn't offensive? I swear! And I can practically guarantee that when a company finally, finally comes out with that attitude, no matter what they sell, with the exception of Nazi memorabilia (as they pretty much already tell anyone who is offended to go fornicate with themselves), their sales will skyrocket.

Again, I ask (translation: beg) that you please review American History 101 or even A History of American Economics 101 and note that successful boycotts are rare. (Give me one example of a successful boycott in this country other than the Montgomery bus boycott in the 1960s. One. I'll wait. OK, never mind. I can't wait that long because you're not going to come up with one. But someday, if you do, leave a comment or email me.) And once you have completed said review, please tell these soft, soft, softheaded organizations with their inflammatory "offended" stance to go pleasure themselves. Then go support the company that they had claimed was offensive. What's not to support (and love) about a Parmesan Chicken Sandwich from Carl's Jr.? Mmmm.....chicken with sauce that looks like blood. (See, that is why I am not in charge of the Carl's Jr. advertising. You want offensive? That was offensive!)

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Happy Birthday, Dad.

If my Dad were around, today would have been his birthday. Come to think of it, around or not, it's still his birthday. Regardless, even though I am fully aware that he (likely) does not have a computer or the Internet, I'm still doing it this way.

Happy birthday, Dad.

We'll be having your usual birthday dinner tonight. No sense in missing out on that. I sure do wish you could be here for it. As far as everything else goes, since we chat all the time, I won't go into a ton of detail because you already know everything.

I sure do miss you and I wish you could come back.

Happy birthday, Dad.

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Today's News - Now With Chickens!

There's some stuff you just can't make up. No matter how hard you try, you'd never come up with stuff like this. Headline over there across the pond at the BBC News: One legged hen's horseback return. Wait. What now? One legged hen? OK, shouldn't 'News' have been in quotes? Unless that one-legged hen can talk, I'm thinking the term 'news' is probably used pretty liberally in the context that it was.

It seems that a hen, yes a hen, a hen was rescued from the clutches/jaws of a fox, but not before the fox could chomp off a leg. (But can you blame him? Chicken legs? Good stuff!) According to a one Mrs. Marian Nicol, it was her son who "found the injured hen lying on her back after hearing a noise where the chickens were kept. Her leg had been chewed by the fox." Hence why she was lying on her back. It's not like she could hop around and hop for help. It is a chicken. They do have their limitations and breathing and walking are about the sum total of them.

The hen, who goes by the name of Peggy for some reason, apparently used to "land on the backs of the horses and sit there", but that was before all of the leg mauling. "Since her leg was damaged she hasn't been able to jump up there, but we sometimes lift her up and she will sit there." Well, what else is she going to do? She has one leg. You just said it! One leg!

Mrs. Nicol said that her and her son "treated" Peggy and "she is making a good recovery." They don't explain what all it entailed when they "treated" her. Had the chicken not been riding on the back of a horse, I would have just assumed that the "treatment" consisted of 11 herbs and spices.

There is a video of this oddity in the animal kingdom. It's not long and it's just like what it sounds like it is. It's a chicken. On the back of a horse. And the horse is walking. Ta-DA! At one point, Mrs. Nicol is heard to say about Peggy that she's "Just as happy as a hen in, um, uh, clover?" What the heck does that mean? A hen in clover? Do hens like clover? I've spent a lot of time on farms and I do not recall seeing any clover anywhere near the hens. A hen in clover? (Well, they're clearly not four-leafed clovers, as if they had been, that chicken might still have two legs.) How about if we come up with a more appropriate metaphor? How about happy as a hen in barbeque sauce? Or happy as a hen in a casserole? Happy as a hen in a biscuit?

You can view a 30-second video of the hen atop the horse over at this link. It's nothing profound, but it is there. You wouldn't think that it would be that hard to know what it was that you're most interested in filming if you're the one with the camcorder, but it was seemingly not so obvious to whomever was doing the filming, as most of the time it's a wide shot of the horse's arse with half of a chicken on top of him. The chicken! You're supposed to focus on the chicken! The story is "Chicken Rides Horse" not "Horse's Ass Grows Chicken"! Detail! Detail!

For some reason, there's a lot of chicken news being covered by the BBC lately. There's also the story of a cockerel (which I believe is the equivalent in the United States to a rooster) named Basil who was adopted by a farmer after Basil was evicted from a Tyneside housing estate where he had taken up residence. Basil was asked to leave because he was crowing loudly in the early morning hours. (He is a rooster. They do do that.) Apparently, this rooster was a hot topic for quite some time over there. But it's good to know that people on other parts of the globe are just as idiotic as some of the folks here in the US because of course Basil ended up with his own Facebook group. (We're so doomed.)

The article says that after numerous complaints "housing officials (had) to issue the bird with a notice to quit." I'm just guessing that since it was a bird that it was unable to read the notice it had just been issued. And even if it could read it, I'm guessing he didn't care.) People even wrote letters to the Queen asking for her to intervene! It's a chicken, people! (Look, I don't know a lot about the royalty thing that goes on over there, but is that one of the official powers of the Queen? Intervention with Poultry? If so, is it just chickens or are there others birds that she can have not evicted as well? And my final question, are these royal powers of the Queen limited to only birds and if so, is it only the tasty ones?)

A one Claire Thorburn ended up taking Basil in and giving him a home on her farm in Bamburgh, Northumberland where she has 30 hens! ( Holy cow! Basil! You've hit the jackpot! ) But Basil quickly took to a hen named Bonnet and now, lo and behold (brother and sister of Flora and Fauna) they are the proud chicken parents of two baby female chicks and one baby male chick. And for some reason, folks seem to think that because Basil was able to find an uninhibited female farm bird for fornicating that it means that he is happy now and it " proves how settled he is in his new home." It does?

How unhappy can a chicken be, really? Unless it's in the middle of having its leg gnawed off by a fox. I haven't heard of a need for any sort of Poultry Prozac or anything. And maybe it is the new digs that has Basil all happy and frolicking. I think it could be more likely that it's all of the fornicating that has Basil all happy and frolicking and continuing to fornicate. He's on a farm with thirty chicks! (And rumor has it those chicks are animals!) How bad could it be? Where do I sign up? Do I have to crow in the early morning hours? Because that really won't work for me; I'm not much of a morning person.

At this link, you can watch a 20 second video of Basil's new owner saying something which I found to be completely undecipherable due to an accented accent! I was, however, able to understand her say that Basil had been sitting on the eggs for 21 days! Wow. Now that's a henpecked husband.

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