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 http://zbigchicken.blogspot.com/2011/11/znew-and-improved-or-just-new-really.html  . 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.

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.

(sigh)

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 funny...like, 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?  http://zbigchicken.blogspot.com/2010/10/ostrich-dreams-are-such-strange-things.html 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

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.

Z'self-righteous,
chicken

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 zbigchicken.blogspot.com " and everything will be just fine.  Just fine.   Just fine.

Boo!

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.

Been Sigh-ing a Lot Lately - At Least Twice Anyway

Whatever happened to the good old days?  The times when things were so much simpler?   I mean, when I was a wee, fuzzy little chicklet, all I had to do was hide from the hawks, and the farmer's dogs, and the farmer, and the coyotes, and the foxes, and the snakes, and the bobcats, and the panthers, and the owls. 

(sigh)

Now, I've got this trig homework, and there's a lot of it, and I just have not been able to keep up, and it's just a little depressing is all.  Ah, well, I guess things could be worse.  I mean, I could still be locked up in the dungeon-like setting of my ex-girlfriend's abode.  Course, if I were still there, then I wouldn't have to go to work, and then I might have actually gotten my trig homework done.

What do you mean, people keep jobs and get their homework done on time?  What kinds of freaks are YOU talking about?  Sheesh....

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a chicken suit to put on.  This country ain't gonna skate itself.

Love,
Z'chicken

The Trouble With Pants

The first thing I realized the last time my pants fell down was that I was wearing the underwear that makes my cheeks look the best.  The next thing I realized was that I was dreaming.  The third and final thing I realized was that the strange buzzing sound I heard was my alarm clock going off, and that's what finally stirred me. 

(sigh)

Can't a chicken just get some sleep anymore?  It's like, ever since I started wearing pants, it's been nothing but trouble.  I never had to worry about 'em falling down when I wasn't wearing them, you know?  (That's a rhetorical question...whatever that means.) 

Can someone answer me, please?  Doesn't anyone else out there know what it feels like to go your whole life without wearing pants, just feeling fine and dandy, only to finally bow to social pressures, start wearing them, and then feel ashamed when they fall down?

Am I crazy?

Well, that does it.  Today, I'm takin' 'em off.

Your,

Pantless...
Chicken

Spicy Chicken Pin-Up and a Missing Wallet

Seeing as how I love controversy, I was intrigued by the recent New York Times pin-up of a raw chicken in a spicy little pose whose plucked presence sparked a bit of a public outcry from vegan activists.  I was so intrigued by it all, in fact, that I spent approximately three minutes reading a story about it on Yahoo News, and I don't invest that kind of time for just anything!  No, sir-E-bob.  It has to be good and juicy for me to waste my precious time reading about it.  After all, I could be picking my nose (do chickens even have noses?) or plucking my chest feathers or digging up some nice worms in preparation for a hot date with some new chick.  Although, typically, I'm really more often just picking my nose, without the prospect of a hot date with a new chick.  Picking my nose and working on homework, is more like it.  Homework, and laundry.  (Do chickens have laundry?  I know I do, but I'm not a REAL chicken, I'm just a human person who seriously, for some odd reason, wants to dress up like a chicken.  I'm thinking that I probably didn't get enough positive attention as a pullet.  Actually, I just looked up "pullet,"  and as it turns out, it's a young hen, not a young, strapping cock-of-the-walk, such as myself.  Moving forward swiftly now, without further delay...)

Speaking of homework, I'd best get back to it if I want to keep up a decent GPA, but in closing, I would like to say that the next time any of YOU lock yourselves out of your office during the weekend and have to walk five miles to call someone so you can get help getting into your house and then borrow a car and feel pretty grateful that you didn't follow the letter of the law and turn that one ID back in when you got the other one updated so you can still drive with a license so you're not too scared to be on the road while your wallet is locked inside the office with your phone and your keys and then you're wondering what your co-workers must do on the weekends, since they're not at the office, too, already, but then of course you need to send out word that you did this because since you weren't meaning to leave, you didn't arm the alarm, and so someone's gotta do that because you'd feel pretty bad if thieves came in and stole the expensive equipment when it was your fault that the system wasn't armed in the first place because after all, you only stepped outside to enjoy your dinner, it wasn't like you were eggs-actly planning to forget that the door knob has this lock setting where you can still turn it to get outside even if it is locked, but as I was saying...the next time you do that, I am so going to laugh at you.  I am never going to let you live that one down.

Z'sheepish,
Chicken