The Diary Of A Chicken Lover
Day 666 of no internet connection.
Dear Diary,
I feel as though I am lost amid a sea of Cadbury Dairy Milk chocolate and I’ve just been diagnosed as lactose intolerant. I think that I may be going ever so slightly mad. It has been many months since we last had any internet connection and I’m beginning to suspect that both the Spawn and I, are slowly losing our faculties.
Last week and without wont of anything better to do, we decided to leave our self imposed prison and go out into the garden to get some much needed fresh air. We sought to kill two birds with one stone by way of getting in some form of exercise whilst we were at it. And so that’s just what we did…killed two birds with one stone. Granted, the stone was more of a boulder and the birds were only young chicks but the combined effort needed to pick up such a huge piece of rock and to crush the ever loving life, blood out of those dear vulnerable creatures, reminded us how in times of need, we could both bond together to work as part of a team.
Day 669
In our efforts to keep fit and to halt the ever rapid process of steadily going bat-shit crazy, we decided to play a game of ‘catch’. It proved to be a great day for all. Much fun was had as we passed the object of our throws back and forth all the while laughing gleefully and just a tad hysterically. Unfortunately, we soon run out of feces and had to venture back indoors.
Day 670
Dear Diary,
Today I was feeling somewhat forlorn and a little forsaken and so decided to do something that I hadn’t done since I was a child. But without any spare matches to hand, my pyromaniac tendencies had to remain unsated. I then decided to do something else that I hadn’t done since I was a kid and that was to pray. I spoke to God about the futility of my existence and about how I felt undervalued, as though I didn’t exist. I told him how I always felt as though others reacted to me as if they couldn’t see me, as though my very presence led to the credence that I was there only to be instantly forgotten. To which the Good Lord did reply, “Fuck! Who said that?” Bastard!
Day 671
I fear that insanity may soon be upon us. After making preparations for the evening meal, I then decided to flex my cerebral muscle by challenging Spawn to five rounds of highly competitive chess. Unfortunately, it took me almost 30 minutes to discover that I had in fact been playing with a frozen chicken and that Spawn had been nicely roasting upon the middle shelf of the oven at a temperature of gas mark 5. And although a little crispy around the edges, he tasted lovely with a Cesar salad and a bottle of Chianti.
The frozen chicken won all five rounds.
Day 707
Feeling much better today. I seriously thought that I was well on the way to having a nervous breakdown. But after having a heart to heart with the frozen chicken, I soon realized that there was life away from the computer. If it wasn’t for Kevin Fredrick Chickenson, or KFC as I like to call him, I swear that I would be in an asylum right now. We’ve become really close over these last few weeks and there’s even been talk of a wedding. Bless him, he’s so excited that he’s been running around all day like a headless chicken…which is natural of course, since he is one.
Day 800
My love is dead. Kevin Fredrick Chickenson passed away this morning after tripping over some marbles that had been placed randomly and rather mysteriously, upon the kitchen floor. Having plunged headlong into the oven, which had been conspicuously left open and set at a temperature of 180 degrees, he is sadly no more. His ashes will be spread over two slices of Mighty White along with a dash of mayonnaise and a couple slices of pickles.
Day 801
Yep, I’ve finally lost the plot...
~Lily
*Reposted from the original blog on 5th May 2014
A future Children’s Classic.
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Only if those future children need a ton of therapy and a butt load of anti-psychotic pills.
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You made me spit my milk out. I hope you’re happy.
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Yes, I’m extremely happy because you know what they say, there’s no point in crying over spit milk…er…or something like that…
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Hahahahahahahahahahahahagasphahahahahaha.
Bugger! Off to Starbucks for a refill then M&S for a clean shirt.
Brilliant Lily. Thank you for setting up the rest of my day
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Just send me the dry cleaning bills Mr D. Or better still, incinerate those shirts. I don’t want PIL tracking me down. I’ve got a feeling that she’s lethal with her bare hands. *gulp*
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Lily, I like the cool new graphic at the top of the page. 🙂 No Internet connection for so long would drive me bat-shit crazy for sure and I’d be talking to headless chickens too! Oh despite all that I really must be a chicken lover because after reading this (and not to make light of your distress and RIP to KFC!) but I now have a craving for roasted chicken LOL!!
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Madilyn, this was written when we really didn’t have any internet connection for almost a year. We found ourselves having to do crazy and unusual things like ‘talking’ to one another. Can you imagine?! The TV went at the same time and so there was a lot of what people call ‘interacting.’ We hadn’t heard of such devilry before but found that we enjoyed it.
Roasted chicken?? Oh Madilyn, how could you bring back such cruel memories?!!
The header is done by a brilliant surrealist called Jacek Yerka.
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I am sure I remember your time off the internet. we were all thinking stuff like . . . well thats odd we have not seen Miss Lily for ages. . . . Then if I remember correctly you would turn up for half an hour and shout. . . Bloody Internet . . . . then vanish for ages after throwing your laptop at a wall or two to show it who was boss. . . . Happy Days
I note the new fancy graphics and stuff, all very posh indeed. . . .
Well Miss Lily we find ourselves on the brink of a whole new year of exciting things. . . Am I right in thinking the Lil man becomes a teenager this year. . . . .OOOoooooooo that will be fun. I was one once but I kept my head down and it passed, I will say that it was better that being a grumpy old man . . . but its a close call.
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Mr Z, those moments when I would pop up were written from my phone, back in the days when it would only let you type 140 ish words. Gawd bless modern technology. Now phones can cook, clean, raise your child and tile the roofs.
The graphic is lovely, but I suspect when you come back, it would have changed. That’s the 5th one I’ve put up already. Spawn has indeed entered the bleak and dark world of ‘The Teenager,’ whereby his soul as turned black and withered away and his vocal cords have shrunk to a degree that he can now only emit grunting noises. I predict much fun times ahead!
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LOVE the new graphic. Please, no more fowl references. Chicken and turkey are now banned from our house until future notice. Maybe we’ll try the other other white meat next year, maybe with a nice Chianti …
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When you say other other white meat, do you mean human flesh? You do know it tastes like chicken, don’t you? Sorry…
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Uh huh 😀
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Okay…you’re just beginning to scare me now…
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I can’t imagine you scare easily 😀
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I don’t. But when a lovely, talented lady with the face of sunshine and lollipops and a wry and twisted sense of humour reveals her cannibalistic intent. then you realise that the world is not all that it should be…
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Just wait till my first full length novel comes out later this week. That’s what I call dark. With light bits. And a cat. Plug over. Sorry.
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Ooh, congratulations!!
Good thing they’re sending me a new debit card so I can order online. 🙂
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Thank you! Will let you know when it’s up on Amazon.
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Your new header is gorgeous! (That is, of course, YOU on that magical horse, capturing those floating testicles, right?) (So you can roast them perhaps?)
Happy New Year, girl! May your internet ne’er go kaput again. 🙂
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Those are moons Susan. MOONS! I laughed so hard that I had to go and have another look at the picture. Spawn was sitting next to me and I said, “I never saw them as floating testicles before,” to which he replied, “neither did I, but now I can see nothing but!”
Happy New Year to you to!!
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I love playing toss the feces, but it’s important to have a balanced diet with plenty of cat hair if you’re gonna keep your shit together. Our teenagers were never very good at the catching part, and insisted on using their ear as a ball glove to funnel it inside their ears. No wonder they have shit for brains.
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That is FAR MORE twisted then anything that I could have written…which is probably why I love it! Had to laugh out loud at ‘shit for brains.’ Not nice but oh so deliciously funny.
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Dearest Lily, your resurrection of this post has confirmed what I have suspected for a long time: That there was a terrorist cyber-attack that went unnoticed by important people in the spring of 2014. We ALSO lost our Portal to the World during those dark days, and no explanation was ever given beyond “your thingy isn’t connecting right”. It was a terrible strain on my relationship with my partner, because I actually had to listen to him for a change, and I nearly sought refuge in a nunnery, until I learned that you were still required to wear panties under your habit even though no one could actually tell. I still have flashbacks to that horrid ordeal, waking up screaming, but now I can find comfort in knowing that you are a fellow survivor…
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Lovely Brian, my heart goes out to you for having to endure such trying times. It was at that same time that I tried to enter a priest…sorry, the priesthood. I still have the restraining orders from that bleak day…and a prison ankle bracelet.
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I know the priest of which you speak, and I also tried to breach such, so we now have matching bracelets adhered to our lower regions, which makes a spontaneous run to the corner market a sometimes troubling adventure, but at the end of the day I still think the brief glimpse of the priest’s naked glory in the communal shower was worth running the gauntlet…
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Oh…I’m surprised that he could walk let alone shower after I plied him full of rohypnol…er, I mean alcohol.
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So THAT’s why he appeared to be speaking in tongues when he asked his shower buddy for the shampoo. I just thought it was a religious procedure of some kind… 😉
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Well it was certainly a religious experience by the time I finished with him.
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