Bird Songs of Love and Hate, Infidelity and Devotion

Many of you may remember the snooty comment that Kookaburra left on the last blog post, here  http://zbigchicken.blogspot.com/2011/02/free-range-chicken.html , but if you're new to the blog and don't yet know about the continuing saga, let me just say that she broke both my legs and imprisoned me in her place.  It's been a little while now since she did that, and, to add insult to injury, she just dropped by to insult me... after injuring me.  See?  And I quote:

"Kookaburra said...
Hey, I didn't break both your drumsticks and imprison you just so you could keep writing on your floopy blog. Yeah, that's right, I called it "floopy." If you're going to be communicating with the outside world, write a love poem about me. Oh, and how exactly are you blogging, considering I only gave you a big, heavy typewriter?"

Not being the sort to openly disobey my beloved, I composed a poem for her, and wish to also share it now, here with all of you. If you like it, please use the handy "share" button at the top of your screen, to let your friends know that we're here, or leave some comments, or email me with info from the "contact" page. Thanks. Now, without further ado, I give to you, a "Love Poem to Kookaburra."

Ahem.

"If I were your teacher,
I would give you an F and
I would set this poem to music, girl,
But I know you're tone deaf.

Callin' my blog floopy loopy?
Girl, your thighs are lookin' bloopy,
You better hit the gym, don't rest!
Instead of sitting all day,
Eatin' regurgitated bon-bons
in your filthy nest.

You start complainin' every morning
Before your feet ever touch the floor.
Baby, you remember that one time you
were quiet for five minutes?
Good, now gimme a little encore.

Ain't nothin' like being cooped up
With a crazy chick who thinks I'm hunky,
Girl, I know it ain't your birthday, but
I got  you a blog anyway, and call it
Z'Very Tiny French Monkey"
http://zverytinyfrenchmonkey.blogspot.com/

Your Poetic,
Chicken

PS-Could you bring me some grubs, please?  I'm gettin' hun-ga-ray.

Free-Range Chicken

Been thinking more about costume design lately. Well, since Kookaburra broke both of my legs and imprisoned me here for Valentine's Day, I've had a bit of time to think about these things. So, for the suit, I think what I really want is something striking, something smooth, something that makes a bold statement about who I am: namely, a real Ladies' Man.

A good-looking suit, that's what I want. Not like those typical fleece chicken suits that most peeps dress up in around the holidays. Are you kidding? Those suits are tacky! Am I right?! (I am right, aren't I? I wouldn't ask, except I've been feeling a deep need for validation lately, and, while I know that validation should really be an inside job, I prefer the external kind.)

So, in summary, what I'd really like is a sexy chicken suit. Not the tacky kind. And, by the way, I think that this whole imprisonment thing by Kookaburra just proves, once again, that she doesn't really understand me. Why? Because, if she did, she would know that I am a Free-Range Bird.

Your,
Unjustly Imprisoned Chicken

A Message From Kookaburra

Dear Big Chicken Blog Readers,

I felt it was time for you to know the truth about Big Chicken, for I believe in honesty and integrity.  So I snuck into his filthy bedroom, looked around for his computer passwords, and now I can post directly on his blog.  Okay, first off, I found the password under a pile of underwear and like seventy empty Hot Pockets boxes.  Secondly, he had passwords for all sorts of weird things... zbigchicken.blogspot, Ferret lovers anonymous internet help group, ztinyfrenchmonkey.blogspot, hotbirds.net... the list went on - it's disgusting!

I'm not sure why I continue to date this guy.  He swears he's not cheating on me - even though yesterday he texted that from Debbie's phone.  When I asked him why he texted that from another girl's phone, he said it was because that Debbie was sleeping next to him and her phone was quite handy.  He's not even good at lying!

But a girl has to fulfill her needs, and that's what he does for me.  He preens me, regurgitates romantic dinners directly down into my esophagus, and he promises to take me on his big rollerskating adventure which he swears will happen, and I'll be his only girl.  I know he can change, I just know it. But to be sure, I broke both his legs, and he's been tied up in my basement since last Friday night.

-Kookaburra

Who's That Chick?

One of my peeps asked me today who this Kookaburra is. Is she a person? Or a bird? Honestly, I didn't know quite what to say. It's like, you know how you have those friends whose last names you don't know? Or the ones that you can never remember if they wear glasses or not? Or if they're human or avian?

The problem here was when I told Kookaburra that. You're never gonna believe this, but she got mad at me about it!

I know - I don't understand chicks either.

Your,
Confounded Chicken

PS-Hey, Do you know that there are presently THREE discussions RAGING on my Facebook page? That's right, and now you, too, can be a part of this Chicken Madness! Just flock on by my Facebook page, "like" me, and join in to win! What are you going to win? Well, the argument, for one, and after all, isn't that what REALLY matters?

Topic Number One - Wasted Postage
http://www.facebook.com/pages/ZBigChicken/120222578039556?v=app_2373072738#!/topic.php?uid=120222578039556&topic=77

Topic Number Two - Okra: Can You Really Eat The Stuff?
http://www.facebook.com/pages/ZBigChicken/120222578039556?v=app_2373072738#!/topic.php?uid=120222578039556&topic=76

and

Topic Number Three - Frying As a Viable Alternative Methodology in the Treatment of Poultry-Related Psychoses http://www.facebook.com/pages/ZBigChicken/120222578039556?v=app_2373072738#!/topic.php?uid=120222578039556&topic=59

And remember, you can always join in the conversation, I mean, the argument, here on my blog! Just use any of those handy-dandy comment options, or email me at zbigchicken at gmail dot com. Oh, and if you like me, tell your friends! That way, I can afford to keep the lights on in my truck.


Hahaha. I'm kidding! Just kidding. I don't actually live in my truck.**

**(Anymore.)

Death - AKA Big Chicken's Unsolicited Advice Column

You know, when death comes a-calling, it's always a good reminder to me of how important certain peeps are in my life, and so then I usually call them up or drop them a line to let them know how much they mean to me, and then they start complaining about something or other that's happening in their lives, or they make suggestions for how I could maybe change mine, and then I tell them to shove off, and then they get all mad and it's like, I don't know, maybe a good reminder of why I live alone.

So, when you're confronted with death and you're feeling sentimental and you're tempted to call someone up and mend fences - don't. Or you'll just be reminded of why it was you built that particular fence in the first place.

Your,
Fence-Buildin', "Get Offa My Property" Kind of Chicken

When Okra Goes Bad!

Hello Everyone, this is your Big, Hulking, Handsome, Hunky, Hungry Chicken here to say that, anytime you've got okra that goes bad....call me. I'll compost it.

Hey, anybody else out there love okra as much as I do? You don't? How could you not love something that mucilagenous? Could you spell it? For me? Forget the spell check, buster, I'm in a hurry! CAN'T YOU SEE I HAVE VERY IMPORTANT BUSINESS TO TEND TO? THIS DISCUSSION PAGE ON OKRA ISN'T GONNA WRITE ITSELF! http://www.facebook.com/pages/ZBigChicken/120222578039556?v=app_2373072738

Your,
Big, Industrious Chicken