patrick.net

I bumped into a chick from Kentucky named Dixie who was a delight. She was a small fry so I scrambled to take her under my wing. Hey, she egged me on and seemed like some nice take out. I found out that she was a member of the local rotisserie club and that threw me.One day I picked her up in my Coup deVille after I dug up some scratch. It was hot and we were roasting, bacon even. I never sausage weather. At first she thought I was kind of a yokel. Later, we clucked all night. Boy did I have egg on my face. What legs and thighs and tenderloins! Finger lickin' good. I don't mean to broast but I can peck with the breast of them and I've got the nuggets to prove it.We went to the movies to see "Chicken Run" and well, you know me, I'm not the kind to yell "fryer" in a crowded theater and I think that's a feather in my cap.I've got no reason to squawk. I got the grill of my dreams and we're both embroiled in a flaming romance. Luckily, I got in a few pecks when the lights went down but the flick was a tasteless c*ck and bull story. I asked for my money back and can you believe it, they called me cheep. I was shell shocked. I should have cracked a few eggheads. What turkeys. I could have rented Rooster Cogburn instead. I was brooding for a while.Then things got fowl. The fuzz tried to arrest me for cacciatore rape just because we wanted to have some Chicklets. I was even putting away a nest egg and not a poultry sum, either. Thank goodness I'm a hard boiled type of guy cause I'm laying odds that's hard to beat. Also, omletting you know that I'm not hen pecked since I rule the roost even though she shows plenty of pluck. She once took a shot at a poacher in our backyard and that's something to crow about. (somebody named Sanders)However, I hardly ever hear a peep out of her and she never ruffles me, even when I goose her.She really knows how to keep the sunny side up.