Attention, April Winchell:
I will have to send out my living, breathing, pecking feathered enforcers to collect my squeezy chickens if you don't send them soon!
And they called him "Da Claw"...
But, damn. Look at the size of that foot. That's a 13-year-old girl holding that enormous bird. This will give you a better idea of the size:
Giant mutant chicken. Rural Illinois, 2005.
No wonder my sister has battle scars from feeding these damn things. Imagine a yard full of 50 or so enormous birds. No thanks. They have eggs coming out of their ears, by the way. If you're near the Quad Cities and want some nice farm fresh eggs, let me know. My sister, Nurse Rachet, will be delighted to meet you.
You know, if you keep posting this url on the pennlist, you can't be too surprised if people from the pennlist actually start to follow the link and read your blog. You've certainly kept me entertained me for the last half-hour or so.
While (sadly) I have no opinions on mutant killer chickens, I do sympathize with unemployment, having been (ahem) "between gigs" myself for almost 18 months a couple of years back.
I sometimes go back and read some of these entries and think, "Oh dear god. The spelling errors. The bad grammar." And I know my grade school English teachers are spinning in their graves like turbines at Three Mile Island.
Giant mutant chickens will eventually rule the world - one farm at a time, starting in rural Illinois. ;-)
Hopefully, I'll be employed again before the Great Day of the Rooster...
My first thought was: "Do they eat mice?"
My second thought was: "D'Oh, I OWN a bird, so like... REMEMBER the poopy mess?"
So much for that brilliant idea.
There is nothing like real farm eggs by the way :)
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