Juliet was definitely a girl-brained moron... just goes to prove that we ALL could use a sassy gay friend around to snap us back to reality now and again.
Because lets be real, love can make us girl-brained morons do some pretty crazy stuff.
Wednesday, June 23 : Welcome to my world famous mother-lovin' blog!
"That's right, I've always been one to count my chicks before the hatch... " and "Chicks, you've been counted. Consider this your notice."
Wednesday, June 23: How fluffy little drops of adorableness sent me to the brink
I don't think I need to provide examples here of when chickens were mentioned, considering the whole experience of having 3 dozen chirping, blood-craving chicks running around my office and under my feet was bad enough and accurately described in this entry.
Thursday, June 24: Winner, Winner Chicken Dinner, This is God Talking
It takes a really special person to find God in George-Foreman-cooked chicken. "Chickens aren't so different from you and me... they're just out there trying to survive... trying to take care of their children'. Um, excuse me what what fecking chicken are YOU talking about? Do you imagine the chickens out in the forest, hunting for berries to bring back to their chicks or defending their nest from mountain lions or something? Hate to break it to you, dear Crazy Town Boy, but that chicken you're eating? Yeah, it probably grew up in a wire box about 9"x9" and ate discarded chicken parts for meals. Dummy.
Anyway, the completion of this post will bring my chick count up to 4 out of 5... not pretty. I mean, I could have at least picked something cool to carry as a theme throughout the site... like ninjas or wolverines or raptors or rabid hamsters or something. Dang.
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