Friday, November 25, 2011

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

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  . 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.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

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

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.


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, 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? 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

Sunday, November 13, 2011

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

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.


PS-This space intentionally left blank.

Please think of the environment before printing this blog!

And, remember, as always, if you find yourself wandering around, lost in cyberspace and a little scared of potential wolves, just say "There's no place like " and everything will be just fine.  Just fine.   Just fine.


Friday, November 4, 2011

Big Chickie-poo Speaks About Death

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.