Bawk-Bawk
Sometimes when I'm walking home from yoga I'm just enjoying feeling all stretched out and centered and sometimes I put the mind to polishing a little nugget of a thought so that I can present it to you here. Like this one: When you go to the grocery store, you can buy a four-pound whole chicken, which is perfectly acceptable and will cook up quite nicely or you can go for the seven-pounder, which is that much plumper (but in a nice, muscley way), juicier, and tastier.
I, dear readers, am like the seven-pound chicken. Except I don't have a pop-up thermometer stuck in my ass and my guts aren't wrapped in wax paper.
Labels: yoga
3 Comments:
Excellent. Thinking of myself as the 10-pound holiday bird is much nicer than thirty pounds overweight!
10:49 PM, August 01, 2006
Consider this when choosing a male as well: too skinny a cock (as in rooster!) and they will thoughtlessly consume all of your juicy deliciousness!
PS - Here comes Freud: comparing yourself to a chicken doesn't have anything to do with the chickenfucker, does it?
I'm just sayin...
1:03 AM, August 02, 2006
I bet you could find people online into wax paper and thermometers, if that;s your thing ;)
1:42 PM, August 06, 2006
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