zbigchicken

It's Unfair, Is What It Is

2014-07-03T22:25:00.000-07:00

You know, just about every time I start getting to know a girl, this kind of stuff happens (http://zbigchicken.blogspot.com/2014/06/stupid-restraining-order.html). It's like, I start learning a little more about her: about her job, her interests, her hobbies, her friends, her bike lock code, the type of shampoo she uses, her nickname, any moving traffic violations she's had in the past seven years, whether or not she had anything "expunged" from juvie, what TV shows she watches, and at what time she watches them, then the type of cereal she eats at or around 11:45 pm every night, right after she watches the last episode of The Simpsons, but before she brushes her teeth with a toothbrush that's really so old that I can't BELIEVE she hasn't replaced it yet, and then flosses in that really cute way she has. I can't explain the flossing, you'd just have to see it, and if you come over tomorrow night at approximately 11:48 and 45 to 50 seconds, you'll see exactly what I mean. Just don't be too late, because, oh, wait a minute, tomorrow's Friday, I almost forgot! She always goes out with her friends on Friday and does this really neat potluck game night that I'm really looking forward to being a part of (once the restraining order threat is lifted).

Anyway, it's always right about this time that they catch on to the hidden camera in the laptop I "repaired" schtick, and then they get all jumpy and start telling people that they think they're being watched or followed, which really hurts my feelings but really only embarrasses them because most people don't even believe them anyway.

Plus, I would never follow her. Since I know where she's going to be, on what day, and at what time, I just happen to be there then, and isn't there something ennobling or admirable about being in the right place at the right time? I just don't understand why they freak out about it, is all. Or why they don't figure out who I am or why I'm watching them in the first place. Well, usually they don't, but this one, she did, so I'm beginning to think that she's a keeper. Maybe next week, I'll ask her to marry me.

Your enamored,
Chicken

Stupid Restraining Order

2014-06-01T11:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Big Chicken,

Do you ever feel like you're being followed? The other day, as I was making my delivery rounds, I kept hearing heavy breathing and occasional loud farting noises, but every time I turned around, all I saw were orange feathers sticking out of a red-flowering bush. Finally, I had the presence of mind to use the reverse camera function on my phone to take this shot of the scenery behind me. Can you tell me what you see back there?

I can. It's you.

Stop following me, or I will have my lawyer do what he does best.

Sincerely,
Susan "Sue your pants off" Sweed

PS-You should stop eating so many beans.

Yard Work

2014-04-17T20:13:00.000-07:00

Listen, if my neighbor tells you that I just screamed like a girl and jumped two feet in the air when I saw a GIGANTIC spider on my citrus tree, he's lying. I am a very big, very strong, very capable chicken, and therefore would never be scared of a giant, two-inch long, hairy spider running (running) along the trunk of the tree within inches of my hands, but I can tell you that, on a totally unrelated note, I've decided, as of today, that I'll do no more yard work without gloves. Just sayin'.

Your Big, Hulky,
Chicken

New Chicken Suit

2013-12-24T12:35:00.000-08:00

Hi Everyone,

Well, I did it. I finally bit the bullet and suited up in my amazingly dashing and handsome chicken suit. You can check it out on my Facebook page here https://www.facebook.com/zbigchicken

Don't I look fabulous?!

I am one fine-looking bird, I can tell you.

Ladies...I am looking at you...all of you.

Z'very fine-looking, indeed (and mostly single, if you don't count the one partner),
Chicken

Sort of an Anniversary

2013-08-04T21:36:00.000-07:00

Great News, Everyone...we have now had over 10,000 views of the blog! I must say that this is an exciting day for chickens everywhere. Why, before you know it, my associates and our merry band of revelers and chicken-skaters will be placed in positions of imaginary power throughout this our great land, nay (though our audience isn't typically equine), the world. That's right. Calling all chickens, calling chickens everywhere, this is your chance to be a part of the new American Dream. That dream used to consist of security and stability and so forth, but now we're just going to shake things up a bit, go out on a limb, and shake our tailfeathers. Are you with me?!

Who's with me?!

Anyone?

Helloooooooo. Anyone out there?

Oh, for crying out loud, did you guys go to sleep or something? I just made an absolutely riveting speech about a pivotal point in chicken history, and what do you guys do, you go to sleep. Fine bunch of feathered friends you are. Sheesh.

Hey, stop hogging the covers.

Your "Pi in the Sky,"
Chicken

Over 'n out.

A Dream Come True

2013-05-29T12:02:00.000-07:00

Guess what, Everyone? You know how I had this dream to dress up in a large chicken suit and rollerskate around the country to try to get people to laugh and all of that stuff, and then I wrote this blog, and started a Facebook page, and a Twitter account and started making very, very, very witty jokes and quips and so forth and then started asking people for money to fund my endeavor? (Actually, I think I started asking for money before I started the blog...) Anyway, well, guess what?!!!

I subcontracted it out!

Yeah, my assistant, (who should probably be an employee, according to the IRS regulations about determining whether a person who does work is a 1099 contractor or really an employee of the firm) has agreed to go do this for me!

I am just totally psyched out about this. I can't even begin to tell you how happy it makes me to have a dream come true like this, and the best part is is that I won't even have to do the work! How about them apples, huh? I actually got some schmoe, I mean, my "lovely" assistant to go do it for me. What a sucker! I mean, what a dedicated, loyal employee, I mean contractor (did you get that, IRS? I'm talking to you, yeah, you, with your big fancy offices and your absolute power to instill fear in the hearts of all of the good, hard-working people who have to pay taxes every year so that fat-cat bureaucrats can do things like build roads, and support public education programs, and maintain diplomatic relationships with foreign countries, and, uh, hmmmm, where was I going with this? No matter, moving on...)

I'll keep you posted, but I just have to say that, in regards to the chicken suit...better her than me.

Your egg-static,
Chicken

Helping People

2013-05-27T21:26:00.001-07:00

It was brought to my attention sometime back that perhaps I should spend more time helping people. I guess that must have been five, maybe six, no, probably seven or eight years ago by now. Anyway, the time frame doesn't matter as much as the fact that I am finally considering doing that. I mean, one of the things that I did notice was that it seemed like the guys who helped people got the chicks. Not saying that I wouldn't help people out otherwise (I think my track record speaks for itself on this one), just that it seems like having pretty girls fawn all over me and tell me how sweet and nice I am for helping other people could be a big bonus. Actually, that one thing alone could make all of this helping people crap actually worthwhile. You know, I'm beginning to see now why people become philanderers, I mean, philanthropists...because it pays.

So, although I used to think that spending my precious time helping other people was a major waste of time, I think I've had a change of heart. (Please feel free to broadcast this heartfelt message to any and all of the cute, attractive, young college-aged ladies that you know.)

Your Newly Philanthropic (unless it means giving actual money),*
Chicken

*I mean it.

The Return of the Cyber Chicken

2013-01-16T13:19:00.000-08:00

Today I wax poetic in an attempt to avoid duties at my day job. You're welcome.

biting at the computer
cyber-charged hands flinging thoughts through keyboard to screen
once a mere fantasy
the day of global communication and interchange is here
at once enlightening, ennobling, and yet humbling
as awareness of millions of other electronically communicating creatures
enters my conscious mind
control
alt
delete

Another Lame-O Excuse - This Time for Real Though

2012-12-03T13:57:00.000-08:00

You all may have noticed my greater-in-duration-than-usual absence from the blog here, and I must, for once, be honest. Here's the deal. I want to skate across the nation in a chicken suit, but I'm too scared to actually go out and ask people for all of the money it's going to take to fund my endeavor, so instead, I started a company doing what I already know how to do in my day-job, and it's been cutting into my writin' time.

However, rest assured, my good friends, that this little hiccup on the writing front is really in our best interest, because now I'm going to make a bazillion bucks doing this other stuff and then fund this here chicken-skate project , and then you'll all laugh your heads off as a result.

Thanks for your patience, and please feel free to poke around the blog in the meanwhile and catch up on all of the fowl offerings within.

I will, of course, be checking email and the comments on a semi-regular basis. (How's that for non-committal?)

Yer professional,
Chicken

Another Stirring Campaign Speech from Your Chicken

2012-09-30T21:47:00.000-07:00

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday....guess I'd better do some campaignin'...

Friends! Chickens!

It has been a week since I spoke to you last about the importance of believing my lies. What is of the utmost importance (to me) is that you believe my lies more than you believe my competitor's lies. I really can't stress this enough. In fact, this statement is so deep, so meaningful, so profound, that I will now rest my poor tired little hands and give you all a week or so to soak this in.

Your politically quite lazy,
Chicken

Presidential Chicken Speech - 2012

2012-09-23T20:54:00.000-07:00

Friends, Chickens,

I need your support. Our nation is facing difficult times (could I get an intern in here?).

Taxes are too high!

(Where's that intern?)

The gap between the rich and the poor is growing.

(Oh, hey bab-, I mean "intern." Could you grab me, I mean, us, some dinner? Thanks. No, I don't care....anything is fine. Yep..thanks. Gotta go, speakin' to the nation here. Where was I? Oh, that's right-)

Taxes are too high!

The gap between the rich and the poor is growing, at an alarming rate! But I, my fellow, hard-working Americans, have a plan and a promise to you that I have no intention to keep. That's right, folks, I am here to say to you now that I am going to solve these difficult problems by sending you tax refunds. All of it. Every penny you paid in, I will have my staff send back to you.*

*Is it okay to lie about what I'm planning to do in office? Do people generally put footnotes within the text? Where's my intern?

Remember! Vote for me!

The very big C

(and bring me some dinner...)

A Very Important Message from our Chicken

2012-09-16T13:04:00.001-07:00

Hello Everyone, and welcome back to my blog. It's been a while since I've corresponded, and I think that it's time that you all find out why. Friends, Enemigos, Mom, I'd like to announce here, today, my intention to run for President of the United States of America. That's right, president. Of the United States. Of America.

As you can imagine, my decision to nominate myself for this very important position has necessitated great secrecy on my part, so much so that my girlfriend doesn't even know where I'm going half the time, or when I'll be back, or who I'll be with while I'm gone. It's been very trying for her, to say the least, but she's a trusting gal, and bless her heart, she's been willing to sleep alone a few times in the interest of national security and for the good of the country. I simply can't thank her enough for all of the sacrifices she's made for me and I promise that one day, ONE DAY, I will help that girl do some of the dishes. Maybe.

Until that day arrives, my fiends, I mean friends, I will pursue this candidacy like the truly great chicken that I am. So, if you are tired of highly educated people with strong political connections making all of the decisions around here while nobody you know is votin' the way you want them to, then join me, and my flock of peeps, as we spread joy, nonsense, and possibly a little manure (for mulch) throughout this, Our Great Land.

Thank you. And remember to vote. For me. Do you think that's a good slogan? We could make it like:

"Vote! For me, the very big C."

I like it. It's catchy.

You're Presidential,
Chicken

Another Open Letter to Kookaburra Birds

2012-06-17T21:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Kookaburra,

You don't scare me none with all of your threats, or your demands, or your questions about girls I am with that I will refuse to answer (like you posted in this comment here http://zbigchicken.blogspot.com/2012/06/open-letter-to-kookaburras.html#comment-form). I've dealt with bigger fish that you, girl, and I'm prepared to stand up for my rights as a man and set an example for all the downtrodden suckers who've been taken for rides by gold-diggin' avian tarts like you since before my dear sweet mom ever laid the egg that would hatch into me because I am a winner! I'm not a loser, K, I'm a winner.*

Just remember one thing when you're crying your eyeballs out because of me, remember how bad my breath was that one time that you had to tell me to brush my teeth. NO, WAIT! Don't remember that, and please also don't tell anybody. Hmmm, let me think. What about that one time that I had the booger hanging and you had to tell me to get a tissue before we went to that one party, would that be a good thing to remember? No, maybe not. Oh, I know! Remember this, Kookaburra, and remember this good....

I put the "k" in chicken.

zverybigchicken

* I just don't understand why I feel the need to try to convince you of that, it's almost like I care what you think about me.

An Open Letter to Kookaburras

2012-06-02T21:13:00.001-07:00

An Open Letter to All of the Kookaburra Birds Who Hang Around zbigchicken and Bother Him With Incessant Chirping and Comments and Big Hulking Scary Boyfriends and So Forth

Ahem.

Dear All Kookaburra Birds Who Skulk Around zbigchicken’s Website, or Blog, Rather, and Post Insensitive and Unfounded Comments To and About Him (here http://www.zbigchicken.blogspot.com/2012/04/thats-one-feisty-chicken.html#comment-form)While He Is Recovering in the Hospital From Ambushes in Local Pizza Parlour Parking Lots, et al.:

You kingfishers are known to be a contemptuous breed, true, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt and decided to date your mother whilst seeing you just to prove to the world that you’re not all bad after all, and this is the thanks that I get. You pull my head off. I know you said that your boyfriend did it, and maybe everyone believes you even though you have been violent in the past because goodness knows the chicks are the sweeter, kinder, gentler gender, right? Rrrrrrrright. So, thanks, Kookaburra bird, thanks. I just cannot tell you how much your attention to detail means to me. I mean, after all, you not only got your big, beefy, brawny, brainless (I don’t care how many scholarships he was awarded in the 8^th grade, he’s still a loser, and he really lacks ambition, so why don’t you just tell him to go park his Mercedes in someone else’s garage for a while and come get into my Pinto, girl? Can’t you see that I miss you?) boyfriend to try to punch me in front of my friend Shirley, but then you have the gall to blame him for something you did yourself. You got some nerve, girl. I mean that. And besides, you’re getting’ on my last one, and don’t make me have to go get my chakras balanced again because you know every time I do that I end up being all nice and balanced and it really makes me feel…uncomfortable, to say the least. So, uh, you comin’ home tonight? I’ll even kick your Mom out if you do.

Z’two-timin’ shick-awn

That's One Feisty Chicken

2012-04-25T22:06:00.001-07:00

Looks like that ca-ray-zay Kingfisher left another creepy comment. (Kookaburra has left a new comment on your post "I Think This Means War":) You know, if I didn't like her mom so much, I'd probably dump her, but in order to keep the piece in the family, if you follow, sometimes a bird's gotta make some sacrifices.

(But just in case we never make our way back to domestic bliss, if any of you readers out there have any friends who are single and looking, let me know, ok? Now, back to our domestic squabbling. BTW, my aunt told me that she calls pigeon "squab.")

This is the latest from my lovely, lady-like Little K:

"Okay z, I'm going to ignore everything you said, because I didn't read it - even the part about my mom.

Can you bring my Fine Young Cannibals tape with you on Saturday? I think I loaned it to you, and I want it back before you get all beat up. I'd probably have to wait until you get out of the hospital, and who knows how long that would take - maybe years.

Great, thanks!

Cheers big ears!
-K"

Hey K, I thought you were done with the big ears comments. You know that stuff hurts my feelings. Just because I don't have any real ears to speak of is no reason to try to hurt a man's pride. And anyway, you look swollen, like you're retaining water again. Or have you just put on a few pounds?

I'm just saying, is all.

Oh, and you can tell your big stupid boyfriend to go buy you a new FYC CD because I am burning that tape to the ground baby...TO THE GROUND.

You hear me? You don't mess with the chicken K, got it? DON'T MESS WITH THE CHICKEN! Or you're boyfriend's gonna get plucked.

Z'Feisty, Vainglorious, and Duly Appointed,
Chicken

I Think This Means War

2012-04-24T21:24:00.000-07:00

Kookaburra has left a new comment on your post "Could Someone Define the Word "Work," Please?":

"Dear Z,

I should have listened to my mother when she said you were a lazy good-fer-nuthin', and you were bad in bed (I'm not sure how she was so spot-on on that last part.)

Anyhoo, since it appears you're too lame to schedule a time to come get beat up by my incredibly handsome boyfriend, I've set up a fight between you and him myself.

Be at the Pizza-A-Go-Go back parking lot this Saturday at 1:30pm. My boyfriend is teaching orphans how to bench press at noon, so sorry about the late start.

-K "

Oh, uh, hey K, what's up sugar? Listen...ummmm, about Saturday....that time's no good for me. I've got some, uh, stuff, going on this weekend. Can you please ask your big lug-nut if he'd possibly be willing to reschedule? I just can't make it over there before 3 am the following day. Sorry!

By the way, your boyfriend sounds like he's all brawn and no brains, so I've just gotta ask, what on earth do you see in this guy? Especially since you've been out with, of all peeps, ME. I know he may be bench pressing and all, but you've got to admit, I really raised the bar. Right?

Right?

So, uh, let me know about Saturday, I mean Sunday, in the wee wee hours of the morn. Oh, and then, could you also please finish ironing those shirts you said you were going to iron for me a few weeks back when we were still talking? Thanks. Oh, and your mom says "Hi."

Luv,
Z'chicken

Could Someone Define the Word "Work," Please?

2012-04-16T22:26:00.000-07:00

Kookaburra has left a new comment on your post "Why Love Stinks":

"Hey, am I going to have to do all the work on this blog now??? I post a comment , and then it becomes the entire contents of your next post, and then I comment on it???

Are you trying to avoid the fight I'm setting up for you? You know, I'm doing a lot of work to set up your eventual smack down. I'm selling tickets, and having programs printed. This is just like you when we were going out. It was always about you and never about how I wanted to have you beaten up by a guy who wanted to compete for my affections.

-k "

Hey, little news flash for ya, "K," that all this dribble you peck out in the comments section doesn't just cut and paste itself, okay? So, lay off! Ya Featherbrain.

Hmph. And stop picking fights. It's unlady-like. Plus it takes time away from plucking your nose hairs, and you should really stay on top of that chore. I'm just sayin'!

Yer disgruntled,
Chicken

PS - I think we should see a relationship counselor.

Why Love Stinks

2012-04-15T00:21:00.000-07:00

Kookaburra left a new comment on the post "Conjugal Visits and Allergies":

"Dear zBig,

It's been a while. I must say, I've really enjoyed the time I've spent away from you. After I decided to leave you, my life suddenly got better. I began dating a chicken that runs a blog called aBigChicken - he says he was first. He can bench press probably around 2.5 of you, was one of the early founders of Google, and has a comb on the top of his head that just won't quit. It's not all floppy and dilapidated like yours.

Anyhoo, (I know you hate it when I say "Anyhoo," I though it might be fun if you two were to fight over me. You know, like in a parking lot behind the Pizza-a-GoGo restaurant. I'm going to set it up, so you'd better fight for my honor, you jerk!

Love,
Kookaburra"

Conjugal Visits and Allergies

2012-04-02T21:52:00.000-07:00

Things have been pretty lonely since I locked myself out of the coop and ignored every birdy. Hmm, I wonder what I can do to get back in my girlfriend's pants,I mean, good graces. Seriously, I don't know why these lapses in communication bother people, but apparently they do. Heck, you'd figure some chicks would have been happy not to have heard from me for a while, but I guess that's just not true for my ex-mother-in-law's sister, who just got released from jail and has done nothing but criticize me for not writing or calling her the whole time she was locked up. Shoot, if she keeps up like this, I think I just may cut out those conjugal visits we've been having lately.

Or, maybe not. Any port in a storm, they say. I just wish she didn't have so many cats.

Z'congested (ahhh-CHOO!), allergic,
Chicken

Sock Monkey Surveys Return

2011-12-02T21:01:00.000-08:00

Just when you thought it was safe to read z'chicken....I bring to you, once again, the sock monkey, I mean, Survey Monkey, surveys from last year! So, if you like to take surveys that help guide business decisions, try this one: http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/HPNG8YV

If you are, however, more of the cute chicken-type who prefers nonsensical whimsy and doesn't give a damn about business decisions, then this little diddy may be more your tune: http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/T3YCKFS

Thanks for playing!
z'very business-oriented, serious-minded....uh....chicken

SQUAAAAAAAWWWWWWWKKKK

bk-bk-bkCAUCK!

(PS-Please do not tell Kookaburra or my family that I am hiding out in my sock monkey survey....they would kill me, or try to make me go to holiday dinner....either way, I lose. You know what I'm sayin'. So, shhhhhhhhhh. Please. Thanks.)

Relatives - Can't Live With 'Em, Can't K- (you know)

2011-12-02T15:58:00.000-08:00

So, I was stopping by the blog to try to get some peace, since my relatives came to visit and took over at the coop, but apparently, my "Aunty" has taken up residence here now, too, and left the following message (see below). Will the holiday season never cease? It's like, if havin' at home isn't bad enough, then there's the whole "Hey, I've got an embarrassing story about so-and-so....wanna hear it?"

God, I hate the holidays.

"Heya Z'BigChicky,

Thanks for relenting to obligation and letting your Aunty have a room in your coop this holiday season. Now would you be a dwarling and stop reading this and let me have a few words in private with your visitors?

Z'BigC had a female visitor over yesterday. She seemed like a real nice egg, good round head on her round shoulders, curves in all the right places and lEggs that wouldn't quit. I went to my room to give them some privacy but I couldn't help but overhear Z using all sorts of corny lines trying to get her into the hay. I must have dosed off because I was startled awake by a loud squawk. I got up a went to investigate. The door to Z's bedroom was ajar so naturally I had to look in and see if everything was OK. Z'BigC looked fine, laying back with his head propped on his wings. Very contented looking I would say. But laying next to him the egg appeared very frustrated. After a few moments of awkward silence she finally turned to Z'Chicken and said, "Well, I guess we finally answered that question!"

Just a few words to all you wise eggs out there,

Z'AntiBigChicken"

Ohhh, heyyyy, Aunty....you hate bugs, right? Well, why don't we just mosey on over to New Zealand for the holidays, and I'll let you hold the giant weta. It'll be fun!

z'mean,
Chicken

Crap, the Holidays are Here, and so are my Relatives

2011-11-25T20:31:00.000-08:00

Hi you guys. Hey, you remember when I was doling out the Worst Relationship Advice on the Planet? Well, apparently, with the holidays and all coming on, my relatives are seeking me out again, and one of them left a comment on my blog at the end of this lil' post here http://zbigchicken.blogspot.com/2011/11/znew-and-improved-or-just-new-really.html . The full text of this obnoxious (note the proper use of italics) relative's advice follows:

Dear Z (if you will allow me the familiarity),

First off, I have to say you're brilliant! Second, I have a question that requires the aforementioned brilliance to answer. I'm sure you are intimately familiar with the Canada Goose*

Hahahaha, now that I've sent that "brilliant" Big Chicken off on an endless wild goose chase (footnotes are his petards) I'm taking over this blog. I have to. Right up there at the top it sez "Home of the Worst Relationship Advice on the Planet" and since I am the one and only true dispenser of the Worst Relationship Advice on the Planet I have no choice.

As a special introductory offer I will give a one-time-only free sample (what, do you really believe you can get the the absolutely worst relationship advice on the planet for free?) This one goes out to all you ladies out there who are wondering whether or not to accept that marriage proposal you recently received. Do it, marry him***.

Until we meet again,
Your Aunty (Z'antibigchicken)

* aka Branta canadensis**

** aka the Canada Goose*

*** Do not be concerned about all of those flaws of his that are making you hesitate for, just as you suspect, you will be able change him into the ideal husband once you are married.

Z'New and Improved (or just new, really) Email Game!

2011-11-16T19:39:00.000-08:00

The first thing I remembered yesterday was the thing that I tried so hard to forget about the night before. Funny how that happens. Except, it wasn't as funny as it was embarrassing and humiliating. Oy! I don't even want to talk about it. No, wait a minute...that was all a dream! I'm sure of it now. It was just a dirty, rotten, no-good dream where my dog (who was me, except it wasn't me, it was him) opened the door to this room that was dark and inside the room there was a dead coyote that was wearing a pointy-billed mask, so it looked more like a dinosaur. As the wavering light from the candle (who was holding that candle?) illuminated more of the room, more of those slumbering creatures came to light. The question was, were they alive and sleeping or were they dead? Who knows. I think the more important question is, why was that embarrassing and humiliating? Whatever the case, it was scary, and a little unsettling, and not in the least bit funny.

(sigh)

Ok, maybe the pointy masks were a little funny. Then there's the part of the dream where I couldn't even tell if it was me or the dog who was me. Then, there was all the dramatic, wavering light from the candle that somebody was holding. To top it all off, the fact that I even have dreams is kind of funny...like, what's the point in my subconscious processing things and communicating in symbols, you know? I mean, other than that it's fun and interesting and so forth. Hahaha, those wacky dreams. Hey, anybody here remember my ostrich dream? http://zbigchicken.blogspot.com/2010/10/ostrich-dreams-are-such-strange-things.html I always get a kick out of that one.

Hey, does anybody here want to play a game? I do, I do, I do!!!! Okay, so here's what we can do - if you've been reading the blog, and you have some funny stuff to say, but are too shy, for instance, to post a comment, email me! zbigchicken at gmail dot com . I'd love to hear from you. Not sure how to make it into a game, but together, we can tackle those minor details. So now, if you're up for it, let the funny emails begin!

Your Future Pen-Pal,
Z'incredibly verbose...chicken

Z'Big Fancy Chicken Speaks on a Number of Important Topics

2011-11-13T20:34:00.000-08:00

Integrity. Perserverence. Dedication. Honesty. Helpfulness. Kindness. Fidelity. These are a number of important ideals that, when combined, make for a solid code of conduct upon which a person may be proud to live. A standard, if you will, of the kinds of character traits that have ennobled noblemen and impassioned the truly self-righteous to write numerous books and tomes about the subjects in order to sway the layman towards their views. I say to all of you today, in complete and utter earnestness, that I make these bold claims without having done a stitch of research. Not one iota, even with Google itself a mere added tab or new window and address bar away.

These, ladies and gentle-creatures, are the types of thoughts that keep your pal Chickie up at night, and that, only because he (that would be me, or, I, rather) finds words such as these to be troubling, and not just because he has trouble spelling them, but also because he has a hard time getting other people to live up to them while also avoiding like the absolute plague the practice, the actual practice of, uh, practicing these principles.

Z'self-righteous,
chicken

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Big Chickie-poo Speaks About Death

2011-11-04T23:10:00.000-07:00

Anybody out there scared of dying? I'm not. Not anymore. I used to be scared of dying, but now I think that it's just one more place to go, and I'm guessing that the IRS is already there anyway, waiting for me to cross through the pearly gates of hell so that they can tax my entry. I wonder if I'll be considered a resident that first year, or if I'll have to pay out-of-state tuition if I want to go to school there. Actually, that is pretty scary.