Monday, December 3, 2012

Another Lame-O Excuse - This Time for Real Though

You all may have noticed my greater-in-duration-than-usual absence from the blog here, and I must, for once, be honest.  Here's the deal.  I want to skate across the nation in a chicken suit, but I'm too scared to actually go out and ask people for all of the money it's going to take to fund my endeavor, so instead, I started a company doing what I already know how to do in my day-job, and it's been cutting into my writin' time.

However, rest assured, my good friends, that this little hiccup on the writing front is really in our best interest, because now I'm going to make a bazillion bucks doing this other stuff and then fund this here chicken-skate project , and then you'll all laugh your heads off as a result.

Thanks for your patience, and please feel free to poke around the blog in the meanwhile and catch up on all of the fowl offerings within.

I will, of course, be checking email and the comments on a semi-regular basis.  (How's that for non-committal?)

Yer professional,

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Another Stirring Campaign Speech from Your Chicken

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday....guess I'd better do some campaignin'...

Friends! Chickens!

It has been a week since I spoke to you last about the importance of believing my lies.  What is of the utmost importance (to me) is that you believe my lies more than you believe my competitor's lies.  I really can't stress this enough.  In fact, this statement is so deep, so meaningful, so profound, that I will now rest my poor tired little hands and give you all a week or so to soak this in. 

Your politically quite lazy,

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Presidential Chicken Speech - 2012

Friends, Chickens,

I need your support.  Our nation is facing difficult times (could I get an intern in here?).

Taxes are too high!

(Where's that intern?)

The gap between the rich and the poor is growing.

(Oh, hey bab-, I mean "intern."  Could you grab me, I mean, us, some dinner?  Thanks.  No, I don't care....anything is fine.  Yep..thanks.  Gotta go, speakin' to the nation here.  Where was I?  Oh, that's right-)

Taxes are too high!

The gap between the rich and the poor is growing, at an alarming rate!  But I, my fellow, hard-working Americans, have a plan and a promise to you that I have no intention to keep.  That's right, folks, I am here to say to you now that I am going to solve these difficult problems by sending you tax refunds.  All of it.  Every penny you paid in, I will have my staff send back to you.*

*Is it okay to lie about what I'm planning to do in office?  Do people generally put footnotes within the text?  Where's my intern?

Remember!  Vote for me!

The very big C

(and bring me some dinner...)

Sunday, September 16, 2012

A Very Important Message from our Chicken

Hello Everyone, and welcome back to my blog.  It's been a while since I've corresponded, and I think that it's time that you all find out why.  Friends, Enemigos, Mom, I'd like to announce here, today, my intention to run for President of the United States of America.  That's right, president.  Of the United States.  Of America.

As you can imagine, my decision to nominate myself for this very important position has necessitated great secrecy on my part, so much so that my girlfriend doesn't even know where I'm going half the time, or when I'll be back, or who I'll be with while I'm gone.  It's been very trying for her, to say the least, but she's a trusting gal, and bless her heart, she's been willing to sleep alone a few times in the interest of national security and for the good of the country.  I simply can't thank her enough for all of the sacrifices she's made for me and I promise that one day, ONE DAY, I will help that girl do some of the dishes.  Maybe.

Until that day arrives, my fiends, I mean friends, I will pursue this candidacy like the truly great chicken that I am.  So, if you are tired of highly educated people with strong political connections making all of the decisions around here while nobody you know is votin' the way you want them to, then join me, and my flock of peeps, as we spread joy, nonsense, and possibly a little manure (for mulch) throughout this, Our Great Land.

Thank you.  And remember to vote.  For me.  Do you think that's a good slogan?  We could make it like:

"Vote!  For me, the very big C."

I like it.  It's catchy.

You're Presidential,

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Another Open Letter to Kookaburra Birds

Dear Kookaburra,

You don't scare me none with all of your threats, or your demands, or your questions about girls I am with that I will refuse to answer (like you posted in this comment here  I've dealt with bigger fish that you, girl, and I'm prepared to stand up for my rights as a man and set an example for all the downtrodden suckers who've been taken for rides by gold-diggin' avian tarts like you since before my dear sweet mom ever laid the egg that would hatch into me because I am a winner!  I'm not a loser, K, I'm a winner.*

Just remember one thing when you're crying your eyeballs out because of me, remember how bad my breath was that one time that you had to tell me to brush my teeth.  NO, WAIT! Don't remember that, and please also don't tell anybody.  Hmmm, let me think.  What about that one time that I had the booger hanging and you had to tell me to get a tissue before we went to that one party, would that be a good thing to remember?  No, maybe not.  Oh, I know!  Remember this, Kookaburra, and remember this good....

I put the "k" in chicken. 


* I just don't understand why I feel the need to try to convince you of that, it's almost like I care what you think about me.

Saturday, June 2, 2012

An Open Letter to Kookaburras

An Open Letter to All of the Kookaburra Birds Who Hang Around zbigchicken and Bother Him With Incessant Chirping and Comments and Big Hulking Scary Boyfriends and So Forth


Dear All Kookaburra Birds Who Skulk Around zbigchicken’s Website, or Blog, Rather, and Post Insensitive and Unfounded Comments To and About Him (here He Is Recovering in the Hospital From Ambushes in Local Pizza Parlour Parking Lots, et al.:
You kingfishers are known to be a contemptuous breed, true, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt and decided to date your mother whilst seeing you just to prove to the world that you’re not all bad after all, and this is the thanks that I get.  You pull my head off.  I know you said that your boyfriend did it, and maybe everyone believes you even though you have been violent in the past because goodness knows the chicks are the sweeter, kinder, gentler gender, right?  Rrrrrrrright.  So, thanks, Kookaburra bird, thanks.  I just cannot tell you how much your attention to detail means to me.  I mean, after all, you not only got your big, beefy, brawny, brainless (I don’t care how many scholarships he was awarded in the 8th grade, he’s still a loser, and he really lacks ambition, so why don’t you just tell him to go park his Mercedes in someone else’s garage for a while and come get into my Pinto, girl?  Can’t you see that I miss you?) boyfriend to try to punch me in front of my friend Shirley, but then you have the gall to blame him for something you did yourself.  You got some nerve, girl.  I mean that.  And besides, you’re getting’ on my last one, and don’t make me have to go get my chakras balanced again because you know every time I do that I end up being all nice and balanced and it really makes me feel…uncomfortable, to say the least.  So, uh, you comin’ home tonight?  I’ll even kick your Mom out if you do.

Z’two-timin’ shick-awn

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

That's One Feisty Chicken

Looks like that ca-ray-zay Kingfisher left another creepy comment.  (Kookaburra has left a new comment on your post "I Think This Means War":) You know, if I didn't like her mom so much, I'd probably dump her, but in order to keep the piece in the family, if you follow, sometimes a bird's gotta make some sacrifices.

(But just in case we never make our way back to domestic bliss, if any of you readers out there have any friends who are single and looking, let me know, ok?  Now, back to our domestic squabbling. BTW, my aunt told me that she calls pigeon "squab.")

This is the latest from my lovely, lady-like Little K:

"Okay z, I'm going to ignore everything you said, because I didn't read it - even the part about my mom.

Can you bring my Fine Young Cannibals tape with you on Saturday? I think I loaned it to you, and I want it back before you get all beat up. I'd probably have to wait until you get out of the hospital, and who knows how long that would take - maybe years.

Great, thanks!

Cheers big ears!

Hey K, I thought you were done with the big ears comments.  You know that stuff hurts my feelings.  Just because I don't have any real ears to speak of is no reason to try to hurt a man's pride.  And anyway, you look swollen, like you're retaining water again.  Or have you just put on a few pounds?

I'm just saying, is all.

Oh, and you can tell your big stupid boyfriend to go buy you a new FYC CD because I am burning that tape to the ground baby...TO THE GROUND.

You hear me?  You don't mess with the chicken K, got it?  DON'T MESS WITH THE CHICKEN!  Or you're boyfriend's gonna get plucked.

Z'Feisty, Vainglorious, and Duly Appointed,

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

I Think This Means War

Kookaburra has left a new comment on your post "Could Someone Define the Word "Work," Please?": 

"Dear Z,

I should have listened to my mother when she said you were a lazy good-fer-nuthin', and you were bad in bed (I'm not sure how she was so spot-on on that last part.)

Anyhoo, since it appears you're too lame to schedule a time to come get beat up by my incredibly handsome boyfriend, I've set up a fight between you and him myself.

Be at the Pizza-A-Go-Go back parking lot this Saturday at 1:30pm. My boyfriend is teaching orphans how to bench press at noon, so sorry about the late start.

-K "

Oh, uh, hey K, what's up sugar?  Listen...ummmm, about Saturday....that time's no good for me.  I've got some, uh, stuff, going on this weekend.  Can you please ask your big lug-nut if he'd possibly be willing to reschedule?  I just can't make it over there before 3 am the following day.  Sorry!  

By the way, your boyfriend sounds like he's all brawn and no brains, so I've just gotta ask, what on earth do you see in this guy?  Especially since you've been out with, of all peeps, ME.  I know he may be bench pressing and all, but you've got to admit, I really raised the bar.  Right?


So, uh, let me know about Saturday, I mean Sunday, in the wee wee hours of the morn.  Oh, and then, could you also please finish ironing those shirts you said you were going to iron for me a few weeks back when we were still talking?  Thanks.  Oh, and your mom says "Hi."


Monday, April 16, 2012

Could Someone Define the Word "Work," Please?

Kookaburra has left a new comment on your post "Why Love Stinks":

"Hey, am I going to have to do all the work on this blog now??? I post a comment , and then it becomes the entire contents of your next post, and then I comment on it???

Are you trying to avoid the fight I'm setting up for you? You know, I'm doing a lot of work to set up your eventual smack down. I'm selling tickets, and having programs printed. This is just like you when we were going out. It was always about you and never about how I wanted to have you beaten up by a guy who wanted to compete for my affections.

-k "

Hey, little news flash for ya, "K," that all this dribble you peck out in the comments section doesn't just cut and paste itself, okay?  So, lay off!  Ya Featherbrain.

Hmph.  And stop picking fights.  It's unlady-like.  Plus it takes time away from plucking your nose hairs, and you should really stay on top of that chore.  I'm just sayin'!

Yer disgruntled,

PS - I think we should see a relationship counselor.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Why Love Stinks

Kookaburra left a new comment on the post "Conjugal Visits and Allergies":

"Dear zBig,

It's been a while. I must say, I've really enjoyed the time I've spent away from you. After I decided to leave you, my life suddenly got better. I began dating a chicken that runs a blog called aBigChicken - he says he was first. He can bench press probably around 2.5 of you, was one of the early founders of Google, and has a comb on the top of his head that just won't quit. It's not all floppy and dilapidated like yours.

Anyhoo, (I know you hate it when I say "Anyhoo," I though it might be fun if you two were to fight over me. You know, like in a parking lot behind the Pizza-a-GoGo restaurant. I'm going to set it up, so you'd better fight for my honor, you jerk!


Monday, April 2, 2012

Conjugal Visits and Allergies

Things have been pretty lonely since I locked myself out of the coop and ignored every birdy.  Hmm, I wonder what I can do to get back in my girlfriend's pants,I mean, good graces.  Seriously, I don't know why these lapses in communication bother people, but apparently they do.  Heck, you'd figure some chicks would have been happy not to have heard from me for a while, but I guess that's just not true for my ex-mother-in-law's sister, who just got released from jail and has done nothing but criticize me for not writing or calling her the whole time she was locked up.  Shoot, if she keeps up like this, I think I just may cut out those conjugal visits we've been having lately.

Or, maybe not.  Any port in a storm, they say.  I just wish she didn't have so many cats.

Z'congested (ahhh-CHOO!), allergic,