chicken

I have a friend who is obssessed with chicken.  He might let that obssession wane once in a while, but he always comes back to the same, annoying word.  Chicken.  He can't help it.  I cannot help but be annoyed and entertained by it as well.  I look at the chickens next door and think of my friend Anthony.  I wonder if he has ever seen a real chicken.  Once upon a time I would not be able to eat a chicken that I killed, but these days I am thinking I could easily chop off the head, chase around the body, and pluck it, cook it and eat it.  The Wild West is entering my blood. 

Chicken.  In some sick way, chicken will be the end of my friend.  Hopefully it will be me smothering him with a rubber chicken on his 98th birthday.  That would be fun.  A 101 year old crazy woman smothers her 98 year old buddy with a rubber chicken.  Oh the humanity!!!