Hi there once again all you clucks and cocks. This is Feathers Mendelbeak, your local Yenta Chicken, checking in with all the latest gossip around the old henhouse.
Item #1: Guess which white and unmarried hen recently surprised everyone in the coop when she popped out a brown egg? I won’t name names, but let’s just say she’s been known to spread her wings on several occasions…and it wasn’t to do any flying either!
Item #2: A certain cluckster has been leading a double life at night as an exotic dancer at a local barn. She goes by the name of “Chicken Tenders,” and rumor has it that she partakes in some kinky behavior for the right price.
• For a pound of chicken feed, she is willing to dress up like she’s been barbequed.
• For two pounds of extra grade feed, she will allow the client to pluck her all night.
• She’s been known to swing both ways: chickens and roosters.
‘Nuff said for now.
Item #3: Yours truly recently attended the World Premiere of “Impecktuous Clucksters,” the latest opus by that bad boy of poultry cinema, Chirpy Beakatino.
Had a fabulous time dirt-bathing with some of the hottest scratchers on the big screen, and the movie itself was a hoot, offering an alternative history to one of the darkest eras in chicken history. Believe me, the Poultry Rights activists clucked in delight as the foxes got their comeuppance at the film’s end. And might as well polish off an Oscar now for that fabulous supporting actor who chirped in four languages!
That’s it for now. Until next time, this is Feathers Mendelbeak saying keep your wings clipped and your eggs warm. CCFN!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Ah, life, why must you taunt us so with your endless mysteries?
How many of us have not marveled in awe at the wonder that is Stonehenge, the inscrutable Dead Sea Scrolls, the perplexing and annoying three-legged chickens of Pacoima?
Since I have written several extensive volumes on these enigmas in my prize-winning tome, “Great Mysteries of the World: What Up With That?” I will now direct my attention to perhaps the greatest puzzle that has taunted mankind since time began:
Why can’t I find a decent faculty restroom on a public school campus?
Sure, on occasion I strike it lucky with the first restroom I visit. But with God as my witness (and I know He is watching this unfold closely), I often have to enter four or more faculty restrooms before I find one that is acceptable.
I know what you’re thinking, and no, I am not being fussy or particular. I’m just looking for a decent facility so I can drop the kids off at the pool as quickly and safely as possible.
Here’s what happened just the other day as I hunted for a restroom, and trust me, this was not unusual. (Keep in mind that each faculty restroom has only one stall.)
• First Restroom: Sign posted on front door saying “Out of Order.”
• Second Encounter: No sign on door. OK so far, and I open the door as if I’m in a horror movie and anything could appear on the other side. No go: the toilet is clogged up with a bouillabaisse of bowel movements.
•Third: OK, a couple of dead cockroaches, but no live ones and no spiders that may want to pitch a tent in my tuches. But then, alas, no toilet paper. On to the next one.
(Now keep in mind that on a large high school campus, these restrooms are miles apart from each other, so I am clenching my buns and trotting from one corner of the campus to the other, waiting for my sweet release like Rush Limbaugh waiting for his maid to bring his oxycontin or Michael Jackson begging for his injection of propofyl.)
• Fourth Try: All right! This is a newer facility. Even has air-conditioning, instead of a pipe that leads outside directly in front of someone’s leaf blower. As I do my business, I’m feeling like Donald Trump depositing gold bars in one of my tacky hotels. All is well, time to wash my hands, but then: no water from the faucet.
• Fifth Visit: Back to the doody-filled bathroom mentioned in the Second Encounter, where a trickle of water allows me to wash my hands. Finally, mission accomplished, this time with no casualties.
In the past, there have been variations on this quest—no soap, no paper towels, no toilet seat covers—you get the idea. And as far as hot water goes, that’s harder to find than a convincing performance by Jessica Alba.
So, the next time you feel self-conscious when using the facilities at your own place of work, just remember, it could be worse. You could be back at high school.