The fabulous costume designer just yesterday drew up the first ever real actual authentic sketch of chicken. That's right, folks, the Big Chicken's handsome, suave, and debonair physique has been sketched in all of its magnificent glory by this wonderful person, our famed and fabulous conceptual designer. Henceforth, you shall all address me as "Your Mighty Chicken, Sir," which has nothing whatsoever to do with costumes, or with this page, but is simply my new preference. So just do it. Please. I mean, now.
Anyway, costume, yes the costume. It's going to be the slickest roller-skating humanoid chicken the world has ever seen. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, but I am here to prove that wrong. So, could someone run a word count for me, please, starting now - because I don't think that the people who said that thing about a picture being worth a thousand words ever read the descriptions on my blog. Plus, they were probably photographers, which would make them biased. Not necessarily in general, but in this particular instance. Specifically. Or, perhaps, in my case, redundantly. Why do I get such a headache when I write this stuff?
Has anyone else out there ever tried to prove that saying about a picture being worth a thousand words wrong? If you have, then write me. Tell me how you pulled it off, because alls I'm doing is typing up a bunch of words here. You think I oughtta have a judge or a jury or something? Make it sort of like a game, maybe? Something like, "Out of all of the people playing, only one of you is going to win, which means that, for all that crap you say afterwards about it being a good game, only one of you is going to leave here feeling good tonight." Don't you love games? I love games.
Hey, let's make this the kind of game where anonymous people vote. So, if you want to play my game, then you can post an anonymous comment on the blog, and tell me....tell me what? What was the point of this game? Listen, I'm tired of playing Big Chicken's Contest of the Day. It's Friday and I just want to go home. Can someone else facilitate this game for me, please? Well, then, what are you good for? Criminy. Who's paying you guys? Nobody? Oh, yeah. My bad. Say, you ever taken a photograph? What do you mean my humorous writing has become predictable? Well, that's just rude is what that is. No, I don't want to hear another word (can someone tell me if I'm up to a thousand words yet, please? I'm getting pretty tired here) because we've had this same argument a hundred times before if we've had it once and I'm sick of it. Well, if you would just grow up then maybe we'd never have to go through this over and over and over again.
Know what else? You screwed up the order of the updates on the costume pages. No, that was not my fault, that was your fault. And in the middle of my post where I'm trying to beat the pants of those jerks who think their pictures are so much better than mine. Well they've never taken my picture, so how would they know?!
And if you ever invite them over to dinner again I'm going to rant and rave some more when they go home.
BTW, could someone find me a date for this weekend, please? A cute one. Thanks. Now, about that picture. And those words. We're no longer sure where we were going with this, but, oh, hey, I know, let's blame the ghostwriters! Chicken Ghost Writers, get in here. Now. Where were you going with this piece? Do you realize that it doesn't really embody the true spirit of chicken? And it's on the costume page, for crying out loud. Who on earth thought to put it there? Well, I don't care of he is on vacation, you call him up right now and tell him he needs to get that moved over to the proper page by Monday or he's fired. I don't care if it is his honeymoon. They'll probably get divorced in a year anyway. Hey, don't look at me, it's a statistic. That I just pulled out of my a-
rrogant thought process. Hey, did anyone notice that you started writing about the costume and then you went all over the place? Why is that? Saving it for the film, huh? Okay, that makes sense. So, when is the film coming out? Don't know? Is the first one gonna be feature length? A five minute film? Something to post online? Okay, we can do that. When? What's a reasonable deadline? Thanksgiving? Good idea. Then we can have The First Ever Big Chicken Film, featuring all his family and friends (the ones who are still on speaking terms). No wait, if it's going to be released by Thanksgiving, then that means that it will be filmed before that, which means that we don't have to have those guys in the film after all. Oh, yeah, that's a relief.
So, by Thanksgiving, we'll have a brand spanking new five minute film here for all of you, huh? That's the arbitrary deadline? Was there any sort of planning done in regards to choosing that deadline at all? No? Okay, sounds good to me. In fact, it sounds like this chicken thing...is gonna fly. Just like a real chicken. (Do chickens fly? How good are they at it? I want to make sure the analogy is okay.)
Hey, you know what could be fun? If we put the wrong labels on the pages here on the blog. Wouldn't that be funny? Because then people could click on the Contact page and it could take them to Big Chicken Radio or click on Big Chicken Learns Chinese and - hey, what happened to Big Chicken Learns Chinese? Who took that down? Look, I need to go track down the answer to this blazing question, and it may take me a little while because I want to see if that one cute chick is still over in accounting, so here, forget the thousand word goal, and just look at this here "Trip Down Memory Lane."
Your Big Goofy Chicken
September 12, 2010
This is the costume that my "assistant" picked up for me at a yard sale yesterday for a buck. I am modeling it here for your viewing pleasure. Ladies....I am talking to you.
I can't believe I'm wearing a plush chicken suit. This is so humiliating. Plus, I don't know if you realize it, but this giant, soft toy is a duck, not a chicken.
Thanks for picking that up and everything, but guess what, Assistant? You're fired. And BTW, why is it so hard to find good help around here?
Guess I'll just need to do this costume thing myself, which brings us to Shadow Chicken. That's right, Ladies, Gentlemen, CECHSRP's, here for you today, I, I mean, we, are unveiling the long-awaited night-skater, champion of pond-ducks and other waterfowl everywhere. Shadow Chicken.
I'm trying to sound tough and sinister there, but actually, I'm a little troubled because I think this perspective makes my arms look skinny for a guy. Don't let the photo fool you, Ladies, because I am one buff dude.
Okay, alright, I'll admit it, my arms really are skinny! Why do you think I wish to wear feathers? Look, maybe you don't understand what it's like to have small biceps, but it hurts in the locker room, alright? Truth be told, it was really the driving force behind my desire to wear wings. 'Cause then none of those guys could see how little my arms are or make fun of me for it anymore. After all, who in their right mind would make fun of a guy in a chicken suit roller skating around the nation? Hahaha. This is perfect. I'm finally going to show those guys!
You know why? Because this chicken suit thing - it's really going to get the chicks. So take that, locker room guy memories.
*You know what? Disappointingly, I just Googled "Shadow Chicken," and it has been done. A lot more than I have. So, we're gonna need to find another name for this particular madness. Tell you what, let's make it a contest. Name the Shadow Chicken! Anyone can play, but only one of you can win! So, play now.
Your Big, Buff, Corny Chicken
The Chickens of Sparta
Here we have proof of the lesser-known Chicken of Sparta, a fowl general recognized in ages past as a very dashing figure on the battlefield. Mainly because he was always running away. Emerging technology in the field of genetic geneaology has confirmed that this chicken, photographed just the other day, was, in fact, my great-great-great, Great, great-great-grandfather. On my mom's side.
Could someone spell geneaology for me, please? For crying out loud, here, what am I paying you guys for? Couldn't you at least run some spell-check or something? I swear, you are probably the laziest Chicken Ghost Writer I've hired yet. Get out! No, wait, come back! I need you. How do I upload the thingy again? I wish to show the world my dreads. Because then I will be able to get some chicks instead of watching them faun all over you. (Note the mis-spelling, or the mis-used word, rather, and then enter my contest, mentioned elsewhere on my fabulous blog.)
Okay, okay, here's a pic of me with my brand new chicken dreadlocks. I cannot WAIT to go out this weekend, because the chicks are gonna be falling all over me.