I wouldn't argue with that. It's ovalous the guy's an egg-spurt. What a hard-boiled argument. Looks like he used nested equations. Some of that graph info is not all it's cracked up to be. Did he just pullet out of a hat? There will be some squawking about that. I'd say he was over-easy with the competition--made them look like yokels. They're toast. The whole department is cackling over what a coop that was.
*scraches head, ruffles feathers, PACAWK!
well, he WAS back. perhaps momentarily.
if any FPP will lure him in, it's this one.
The word 'chicken' has ceased to look like a real word for me after seeing that page.
I found myself questioning if I had actually been eating a real organism after reading that.
And it's okay, I also found the typo. Fuck.
CCCC! Chicken, chicken chicken (chicken).
Well, I can agree with some of the findings. I've heard arguments along similar lines before, mostly from my quaker parrot. His statement is, "Chicken. Tickle chicken. Chicken chicken."
man, I thought it was sad that I saw the typo...glad I was not the only one. 120 Instances of "Chicken" Found, so says Acrobat 7...now what again was the point of this post ?
cluck!
I'm such a dumb cluck!
btw, now the word 'chicken' looks totally wrong to me..thanks a bunch fuyugare
Goose!
Oh, fuck. Wrong game. Sorry.
Such fowl language, ooga_booga!
*tips hat to GramMa*
A chicken, a twelve-inch aristocrat and a frayed knot cross the road in order to change a lightbulb...
Brill! Reminds me of a south park episode. The south park kids wer in Ethiopia, and there was this space ship, and, wait a second..... Is that Tandoori? That's damn tastey, Mmm umm. is good.
so much depends
upon
a wet red wheel
barrow
covered with
soaked white feathers
from running over
the chickens
An Apology
Forgive me
for backing over
and smashing
your red wheelbarrow.
It was raining
and the rear wiper
does not work on
my new plum-colored SUV.
I am also sorry
about the white
chickens.
--F.J. Bergmann
I lubs it, bees.
An-other Apology
Forgive me
for keying
and trashing
your plum SUV.
It is raining
thru the broken
window, and I
used my red wheelbarrow
to load chicken shit
in your front seat.
The chicken --
there she goes,
crossing the road
over and over again
despite the whooshing traffic
and proverbs falling from the lips of men
and the churning tires that would do their worst.
Ah, if only hasty drivers slowed and thought
"Does this chick or the egg come first?"
But never worry, though she's bruised,
the chicken will come to roost.
hey, good one Bees
The Swan At Edgewater Park
Ruth L. Schwartz
Isn't one of your prissy rich peoples' swans
Wouldn't be at home on some pristine pond
Chooses the whole stinking shoreline, candy wrappers, condoms
in its tidal fringe
Prefers to curve its muscular, slightly grubby neck
into the body of a Great Lake,
Swilling whatever it is swans swill,
Chardonnay of algae with bouquet of crud,
While Clevelanders walk by saying Look
at that big duck!
Beauty isn't the point here; of course
the swan is beautiful,
But not like Lorie at 16, when
Everything was possible--no
More like Lorie at 27
Smoking away her days off in her dirty kitchen,
Her kid with asthma watching TV,
The boyfriend who doesn't know yet she's gonna
Leave him, washing his car out back--and
He's a runty little guy, and drinks too much, and
It's not his kid anyway, but he loves her, he
Really does, he loves them both--
That's the kind of swan this is.
Ruth L. Schwartz
Swans tilt
magnolia-petal wings
to swing
in smooth curves
across the broad face
of a lake's water
Medieval folk
whose appetites were other
could eat them.
But, scion of a less
legend-fed age,
I'm sure at such a feast
I'd choke
on my elegiac
grief
before I'd rise and
rage
WOW!
That deserves extra large typeface in My Book of Bees
o swan
you always dazzled me, ever
since we began and I caught you
almost simpering
at your reflection
gliding on
so calmly centred
despite the light-shot
chop of the dark lake
water breaking a pearl grey
day and lifting my heart
I hope forever
)))))!
Raised as I was in the gathering gloom of Ragnarok and the middenous murk of fairytales and such, I have often thought this thread by the sadly-absent Fuyugare merits this response:
Little little little little little little little. Little little little little little, little? Little!
And via Professor Harold Hill: peck-a-little, cheep, cheep, cheep ...
bullchickenshit.