I had a pet chicken when I was a kid. He and the neighbor's cat had a fun game they'd play: the chicken would stick his head through the chicken wire and kitty would make a grab for it. This would go on for hours. Of course, one day I got home and there was nothing but feathers everywhere. His Jurassic ancestors must have been turning in their, um, tarpits or whatever.
Sounds like a job for The Incredible Jimmy Smith.I just started reading Zappa's autobiography. He had a chapter in there with the exact title of your blog.
@Anonymous -- thanks for the story. I also had chickens as a kid, and they also met an untimely end. In fact they were snuck into a soup without my knowledge. As I'm getting re-introduced to the species, I am coming to the conclusion that (along with goats) chickens are one of the weirdest creatures on the planet. Which is why I like them.@Joe -- thanks for checking out the blog! I'm looking forward to reading more of From the Woodshed.Yup, I'm a huge Zappa fan (as you will no doubt notice if you dig through the archives here, or if you check out the music). He has been my single biggest influence since I started the IJG. I took the blog title from that book (which in fact reads a bit like a blog). It's an homage. Hopefully the ZFT doesn't sue me.
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