Self Analysis

I figured out why I feel such violence towards poultry.

When I was three or four I was at my grandparent's house one day when they were killing chickens. Grandpa would wring their necks and then put them under a big bucket til they quit kicking. I was minding my own business, playing in the dirt, when suddenly a headless chicken came running right towards me. I will never forget how it's nasty little neck stump glistened in the sun. I quickly ran up the nearest woodpile.

I think this has led to my problem with birds. I'm transferring my animosity towards chickens to their other bird brethren. I'd like to kick a pigeon or break a crane's knees but I have no desire to be near a chicken. They are just too freaky.

It is so much fun to feed ducks. It's really neat to toss the bread on the backs of the ducks and then watch them beat the snot out of each other for the food.

I better go get some rest so I can punt toadstools properly.


Zube Girl said...

You. Are. Killing. Me.

Hahahahahaha. Ha.

I promise, I'll even bring my own potato to put in the garbage disposal, because an afternoon hanging out with you sounds just too fucking fun!

Hee. Only, now my garbage disposal is calling me to put a potato in it, and Zube Boy would kill me if I broke it. Being it's brand new and all.

Joe Fuel said...

You might be on to something here. My grandmother grew up on a farm and still live on one. While I have never seen it, I have been told that she can wring a chicken's neck with one hand.

shannon said...

I HATE chickens. With. A. Passion.

My grandparents had a poultry farm in Pennsylvania. When I was two I remember walking down with my Grandpa, hand in hand, both in our bib overalls, to the chicken house. He was letting me feed them. I stepped one foot in, then the other...and the little bitches started pecking at my ankles! I stepped one foot out and then the other, not without the desire to punt a chicken or two across the room...

My Grandpa just fed them all by himself as I watched from the security of the doorway.

I hate chickens.

MollyNormal said...

Hey Chickie, try this site if you run out of toadstools too soon:


bekah said...

You know... if you were a normal person, seeing a headless chicken running towards you as a small child would've probably made you want to give up poultry forever, probably making you join PETA as an adult and be an avid poultry-advocate.

But you're the freak ass who, since that headless chicken incident, has had the desire to snap their little necks.

No wonder Tiny dog is so fucked up!

BO Snagley said...

My chickens and i take no offence. But then all of mine are egg layers who will not have their heads cut off.

txsm said...

Whatever you are on...I want some!
You are a hoot!!!

Chickie said...

zube girl - The potato won't actually render the disposal useless. (Well, it PROBABLY won't.) Zube Boy will just have to unclog it.

Lemon peels and ice are fun to toss down it too!

joe fuel - I have a feeling that all of my quirks can be traced back to the headless chicken episode.

shannon - I would never go get eggs. The beaks are just too pointy.

mollynormal - Thank you! What fun!

bekah - Tiny was fucked up from conception. She needed a Mom like me to be able to understand her.

bo snagley - I'm sure your chickens aren't crazy pecking ones that would eat my eyes if I fell down. They look quite civilized.

txsm - Actually, I think this is a result of laying off the meds. I need to go double up!

Midwestern City Boy said...

I have vague remembrances of seeing a relative wring two chickens necks simultaneously. One in each hand. The chicken's heads ended up in their hand and the rest of them ran around or a little while. But I still eat chickens. On the other hand, I don't ever want to be around when someone is prepping a cow. Large animals are different than birds.

Chickie said...

mcb - But if you're around a cow being prepped it's being restrained so it can't come after you once it's injured.

I'd just as soon not see my food while it still has eyes. I like my meat from the grocery store in cellophane.