Canadian Geese Are All The Same

Just flew in to the Jolts & Juice Coffee Company in Ontario, Oregon.  (http://joltsandjuice.blogspot.com/)*** For a while there, I thought I might be heading in the wrong direction, for instance when I saw road signs (that I actually paid attention to) proclaiming messages like "Ontario 70."  Poor confused chicken, he was like, 'Canada?!"  Of course, he was still unwilling to pull out the Atlas of the United States and look at it.  Again.  Then when he got here he also left his notebook containing all of his varied and, dare-I-say-it profoundly fowl musings in his assistant's car.  Along with the camera which has the neat pics and video clips that are meant one day to be viewed by you, fluffy feathered viewers.  And I'm not one to tattle-tale, but he really had this coming.  Even though he would be me.  Listen, I don't think the coffee is working yet.  Just give me a minute here.  Haaaaaa.  Okay, there it is, working it's charm and fulfilling the promise of helping me to 1.) stop referring to myself as "he" and 2.) do stupid things faster.

As for the coffee shop, this place is alright with me.  Of course, I am a sucker for any place that has doors on the ceiling topped by rubber chickens under glass, and I'll be the first to admit that.  Wish I had that camera from the car.  Oh, well, too late now.  Since it's parked about a half a block away, and we all know I am not going to be walking that far on any given day, but especially not so on Saturday.  I just can't find it within myself to do it.  Sorry.*_-

Oh, hey, heads up ya'll, there's an eagle flying over.  Okay, he's gone.  Or she.  I can never tell the difference.  They all look the same to me.

Now, this just in.  There's a new stop on the Big Chicken's Fabled and First Annually Made Southern Migration.  Please visit that tab on this here blog for a thorough review of my dashing itinerary, and then add this to the bottom of the list**:

Tucson, Arizona November 6-7, 2010 for the All Soul's Procession http://www.allsoulsprocession.org/

This is your Big Hunky Chicken, still Promising You All of the Fabulously Wonderful, and Yet Absolutely Dastardly and Fowl, Musings from my Little Black Book.  Plus Pictures.

Oh, and the Twitter bird and I are having problems again http://twitter.com/zbigchicken

Hey Everyone, One O' Big Chickie's Friends is Currently In Our Nation's Capital (Or Was 16 Hours Ago) So In Honor Of That Friend, Let's Hear It For Improper Capitalization!

This is your big buoyant chicken wishing my new, improved, smart, chickie friends safe and fun travels in Alaska.  And btw, Saucy Comment Leaver:  Where are you? Your chicken misses you.

*** Too bad they don't have pics of the place because the interior design is very creative and fun.

*_- I'm not.

**Did you add this to the bottom of the list like I asked you to?  No, of course I realize that I didn't technically ask you.  That's right, I told you.  Don't make me tell you again.  Anyone else getting tired of that phrase?  I am, too. Wish I had me a cute travel partner, someone to rub the wing joints, you know?  Heyyyyy, is that a Canadian goose?  In these parts?  At this time of year?  Alone?  Say, sweetie, you going my way?  No?  Yes, of course I'll get out of your way.  Sorry about that, you know, the whole "sweetie" thing.  Say, Miss, could you point the way south?  I'm a little disoriented today.

Your big chicken still wants to tell you about the neat peeps from the ferry ride, like the one couple who has been married for forty years (a miracle in our modern age) and the nurse who wishes to travel a remote Alaskan highway before she turns 80, which is only three years from now.  Oh, and she's going it alone (unless she invites the Chicken to go it with her, which he would gladly do if, and only if, she promises to never, ever, ever have oatmeal for breakfast.  I simply can't stomach the thought of oatmeal before I've had at least three grubs.  And then, only if it's sprinkled generously with bugs.  And if we leave out the oats.  And the meal.  So, a big, steaming bowl of oatmeal, with plenty of bugs, but also without, and I really cannot stress this enough, without the meal and also without the oats.  I guess, served like that, I could really start to like oatmeal after all.  Who's with me?

This is your Big Chicken, promising to you, here today, that I will type up all of those musings from my notebook and post some pictures and things.  tomorrow.  maybe.  one more time for improper capitalization, everyone.  isn't he great?  so long, and goodnight.