Chickens
I guess I gotta write something about a chicken.
I hate chickens, every time I get a some at the Colonel's I look into the bucket and say "I hope they killed you slowly, you disgusting piece of scum". Serves them right for attacking me when I was a mere child, no bigger than a chicken myself.
Chicken factories? I'm all for em, the more crammed together and miserable, the better.
That's what I think of chickens.
It's personal
In other news;
I was thinking that the major challenges of riding had been met and it's not a very interesting ride unless it's at least 30 miles. But I talked myself into a 10 miler only to find myself extending it to a half - lake (25 miles)
At 20 I found a heretofore unmet challenge, to wit, the half block straight up hill on the west side of the I-90 bridge. I've done it before by swerving back and forth, but today I rode straight up.
Hoop-de-friggin- do.
Any way at 23 miles I still felt full of it and decided to extend it to 30.
A 2.25 lap around Seward Park and a few other side trips accomplished that.
And my butt ain't even sore.
30.63 miles.
2:56:33 hours.
10.4 average.
36.2 maximum speed.
630.8 + 1307 = 1937.8
I hate chickens, every time I get a some at the Colonel's I look into the bucket and say "I hope they killed you slowly, you disgusting piece of scum". Serves them right for attacking me when I was a mere child, no bigger than a chicken myself.
Chicken factories? I'm all for em, the more crammed together and miserable, the better.
That's what I think of chickens.
It's personal
In other news;
I was thinking that the major challenges of riding had been met and it's not a very interesting ride unless it's at least 30 miles. But I talked myself into a 10 miler only to find myself extending it to a half - lake (25 miles)
At 20 I found a heretofore unmet challenge, to wit, the half block straight up hill on the west side of the I-90 bridge. I've done it before by swerving back and forth, but today I rode straight up.
Hoop-de-friggin- do.
Any way at 23 miles I still felt full of it and decided to extend it to 30.
A 2.25 lap around Seward Park and a few other side trips accomplished that.
And my butt ain't even sore.
30.63 miles.
2:56:33 hours.
10.4 average.
36.2 maximum speed.
630.8 + 1307 = 1937.8
posted by Lane Savant at 3:25 PM
14 Comments:
Poor little chickens. The tastiest thing on the planet yet they are the dopiest animals on the planet.
We're doing them a favor by consuming them.
As for the bike riding, all I can say is "Wow!"
Sorry chickens picked on you as a kid. They can be damn mean. And kudos on the riding. I'm impressed.
A rooster left a huge scar over my mother's left eye ... when she was just a child. I don't like them either!
Colonel Palmer's Kentucky Fried
Poetics is on the money, and on
the table, sir. Love the sarcasm.
Your perspective on things never
disappoints; it is always off-center,
unique, startling, multi-layered.
For some reason, despite my trauma
with cock-comet, I still like eating
the snakes with wings.
Your adventure with Fidelio was
remarkable; taking advantage of
this good weather and pushing
your body to places it can still
surprise even you. The weather
mongers are on the tube shouting
that because of this nice weather
in November, we need to prepare
for the worst winter since 1949,
when the temps hit 0, and the
snow fall was 63"
I remember '49, snow drifts up to my shoulders. There was a big earthquake somewhere about then, too.
I love dramatic weather.
Seattle doesn't really have any of that. Not compared to the middle of the country. Beautiful storms.
Or Alaska, where the air around one can seem like a solid object and the summer nights go on forever.
I don't blame you for hating chickens.
chickens taste like chicken
They can be mean little buggers...best served with dipping sauce. Are you crowing about a real bike ride? Wowee - that's some ride.
the first part rather cracked me up imagining you sitting there talking to the fired chicken parts in the bucket...but i would too...
Now as I research it, the big blizzards
in Seattle were in 1937 and 1950.
In 1949 they predicted the 'Big One"
coming in 1950.
You were 7 and I was 6.
You remember it.
I don't.
Where's the beef?....You crack me up Doug!
honesty is cool,
love your tale.
keep shining...
Glad to be entertained by your work.
Hallo, Y'all!!
Hens are also exploited creatures; they are only fed by their exploiting owners as long as they lay eggs; after that they are killed and eaten.
Janacek's opera "The Cunning Little Vixen" also makes this point. The vixen urges the hens to unite and rise up against the Rooster and the exploiting Forester and his Wife. Bravo Janacek!!
Tschüß,
Anonomann
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