It's Unfair, Is What It Is

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.