Tag Archives: chicken wings

Yay! We’re not running out of chicken wings! And some say the country’s going in the wrong direction. Not!

Humor Post #91 from the world’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Middle School Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

Luckily it looks like a major national crisis has been averted. First we barely escaped that Mayan apocalypse everyone in the world was talking about. Well, maybe it was everyone in the world minus about 7 billion people. But we still made it through unscathed. (Yes, you’re right. There’s another new Crankenfuss word. And why is it you hear “unscathed,” but never “scathed”?)

C’mon, Crankenfuss. Back to topic. Stay on topic. Oh yeah, and we managed to not fall off that fiscal cliff every news program was talking about for months, not that I ever understood what that was all about. For a while I always thought they were saying “physical cliff,” and I would think, Well, what other kind is there? An pretend cliff? And what would be so bad about falling off a pretend cliff. You’d only get pretend hurt. But then I found out the word was “fiscal.” So then I didn’t care anymore, cause even when I looked it up, it didn’t sound interesting.

Is Dr. C off topic AGAIN? Looks like it. Well, it’s like this. I really do have one thought after another. It’s just that none of them are connected.

Okay, okay, here it is. For a while, it looked like there might not be enough chicken wings for the Super Bowl. That would have been horrible. I’m sure all the players would have gone on strike, knowing what a national emergency there was. But now, that crisis is OVER!! Yay! That’s three in a row. The head of the National Chicken Council — I didn’t make that name up — says it was a mean rumor that there wouldn’t be enough chicken wings for all those dudes to chow down on while they’re cheering for their team, bits of chicken flying out of their mouths as they whoop it up. But I was thinking that how could there be a “head” of the National Chicken Council? Everybody knows chickens don’t have heads. I’ve seen scads of them in my time in all sorts of stores — well, food stores — and no chicken I see has a head. So that guy should really be called the Neck of the Chicken Council, doncha think? That’s as high up a chicken as you can go.

Now it’s time for me to take my meditation break. I keep repeating to myself, Stay on topic, Crankenfuss. Stay on topic, Crankenfuss. I’m up to three straight times before my mind starts to wander. I’m going for the “big four” today. Woo hoo!

From Your Dude with the ‘Tude,
Dr. C