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.
Home of the Worst Relationship Advice on the Planet.
Remember when you'd invite me over for a "gourmet" dinner then pour me a bowl of breakfast cereal? Remember our anniversary when you told me I didn't look as fat as I normally do? Remember that poem you just wrote me that manages to insult my cleanliness, my sanity, my musical talent, and my thighs?
ReplyDeleteYou know, any ordinary girl would be mad at you, but I see that you're actually doing something for me. I know that when you try to push me away by saying you can't stand me anymore, you're really saying you love me.
I understand all you subtleties, Big Chicken. Yes, I do. I get it! I get it! I will marry you! Thank you! You've made me the happiest Kookaburra outside of northwestern Australia.
Okay, we need to start planning. And we probably need to start healing your legs so you can walk down the aisle. I want a big wedding by the way. HUGE! It better be damn expensive too, Big Chicken.
Okay, I need to call my mom so she can come stay with us for a while and help me plan. Maybe she can move in for a few years!
-Your Little K.
(A note to readers: I may be changing my address soon)
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