I don't like chicken. I love chickens... but I don't like chicken.
My mom has chickens and I think they are the funniest, cutest little things ever. I love to watch them peck and scratch and cluck. I love to eat their eggs. I love when the hens sit themselves down on their little eggs and grow babies. I love when they hatch and little baby chickens run around my mom's property.
But...
I don't like to eat chicken. I used to, but ever since I was pregnant with Ella... 8+ years ago... I stopped eating it. It's kinda weird, I know. I really do.
But...
IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD!
Some people don't like tomatoes. Some people don't like nuts. Some people don't like olives. Do they get gasps and slack-jawed stares? Maybe. But not likely.
What's the big deal with chicken? Why is it not okay with so many people that I don't like chicken? I don't really get it.
And it's equally hard to understand the incredulous shock people exhibit when I tell them I don't like warm cookies from the oven. I just don't. Sorry. The world will continue rotating on it's axis if I like my cookies cooled completely, not even warm a little bit in the center.. Just so you know.
Next time you're in a restaurant, I want you to think of me. I want you to read over that menu and see just how many dishes include chicken. There's usually only one salad that is lacking this foul fowl. I think us non-chicken lovers need more options. This is discrimination.
I'm totally calling my lawyer. Totally.
Showing posts with label Clancy Trivia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clancy Trivia. Show all posts
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Where Did We Go Wrong?
Dear Peanut Butter-
It's not you, it's me.
I'm not sure what happened to us. We used to enjoy eachother's company. I've never been a "I can't get enough peanut butter" kind of person, but we've always gotten along just fine.
Something happened. Over the years, you've just lost something. Slowly, you and I have just drifted apart. Remember when I used to put a normal amount of you on my PBJ's? And then that amount got thinner and thinner as the years passed, when finally the bread would just show right through you as I spread you on with my favorite freezer jam. I would almost gag if I watched my husband make a PBJ. He lays you on so thick, I'm amazed he coul speak the rest of the day after he ate those sandwiches.
At first it was just the thinning of the "PB" in my PBJ. Next was the Reese's Peanut Butter cups. And somewhere between the Reese's and last night's Peanut Butter Bar order that I had to fill, we've become nothing short of enemies. You assault all my senses... smell, sight, taste... even touch. So far, you've stayed away from hearing, but I know you'll find a way to ruin that too.
I want to be friends with you! Can't we still be friends? It would be so much easier to be around you!
Can't you just make yourself smell good to me again? Or, make it so that when I find little remnants of you in the jelly or the butter (because my kids don't understand the strength of my aversion toward you!) I don't go ballistic?
I'm so sorry that it's come to this. Perhaps, when my hormones level off in a few months, we can find some sort of happy medium. Perhaps.
No longer yours,
Clancy
It's not you, it's me.
I'm not sure what happened to us. We used to enjoy eachother's company. I've never been a "I can't get enough peanut butter" kind of person, but we've always gotten along just fine.
Something happened. Over the years, you've just lost something. Slowly, you and I have just drifted apart. Remember when I used to put a normal amount of you on my PBJ's? And then that amount got thinner and thinner as the years passed, when finally the bread would just show right through you as I spread you on with my favorite freezer jam. I would almost gag if I watched my husband make a PBJ. He lays you on so thick, I'm amazed he coul speak the rest of the day after he ate those sandwiches.
At first it was just the thinning of the "PB" in my PBJ. Next was the Reese's Peanut Butter cups. And somewhere between the Reese's and last night's Peanut Butter Bar order that I had to fill, we've become nothing short of enemies. You assault all my senses... smell, sight, taste... even touch. So far, you've stayed away from hearing, but I know you'll find a way to ruin that too.
I want to be friends with you! Can't we still be friends? It would be so much easier to be around you!
Can't you just make yourself smell good to me again? Or, make it so that when I find little remnants of you in the jelly or the butter (because my kids don't understand the strength of my aversion toward you!) I don't go ballistic?
I'm so sorry that it's come to this. Perhaps, when my hormones level off in a few months, we can find some sort of happy medium. Perhaps.
No longer yours,
Clancy
Monday, June 22, 2009
Manic Monday: Pop
I have to admit, I was drawing a blank on the word Pop for Manic Monday. I thought about describing the pop of roots breaking as you yank out big junglish bushes and weeds with a Bobcat, which is what we did this weekend in our yard, but that didn't appeal to me. I thought about writing how I've sat at this computer for so long that my head might just pop but I didn't want to reveal what a lazy-bone I've been today. (actually, my morning was very busy, but this afternoon has been time-wastey) So, I went to my trusty Google search and entered "pop". I just love the internet. I find such interesting things to waste my time! And they remind me of things...
When I was in college, I had the coolest roommate on the freakin' planet. Her name is Britta and she's still the coolest. (and she's comin' into her power right now, so WATCH OUT world!!!) Back in our roommate days, Britta's little brother flew out from Pennsylvania to visit her for two-ish weeks and I got to know him in that annoying little brother way. He loved to tease and bother me with little things. Things like singing "That Thing You Do" completely off key and the wrong tune to boot. (love ya, Jazzy!) He also liked to make fun of me when I'd say, "Hey, do you want to watch a show?" Does that sound weird to anyone? No, right? Well, he seemed to think that "show" was the wrong word. He informed me each and every time I said it that it was called a MOVIE. Whatever, Jazz.
He couldn't leave it with the annoying song or the show/movie battle, he also had to inform me all the time that it was a SODA and not a POP. It's futile to argue with Jazz. I'm pretty sure he never even heard me when I tried. But, I got to the point where I'd just ignore him when he'd start. Except that freakin' song. I still hear it all wrong every time I think of that song. Silly boy.
Well, in my little Google search I found a website called "The Pop vs. Soda Page". I found it very amusing that someone actually conducted a study and made a statistical map of who says pop and who says soda. Oh yeah, and let's not forget the south where they call all pop "Coke". I got this map from the website... check it out! And if you visit the website, you can participate in the survey! Let your Pop/Soda voice be heard!!!
My mom's from the south and tells me how they always ask, "Hay! What kainda Coke you wawnt?" and then they proceed to list the different flavors like Sprite, Root Beer, Mt. Dew, etc. It doesn't matter how many times she tells me, laugh every time. Seems so silly to me.
And in case you failed to notice, in Idaho the proper term for a carbonated drink is a "Pop", which, in case you wanted some more Clancy-Trivia, I almost never drink.
When I was in college, I had the coolest roommate on the freakin' planet. Her name is Britta and she's still the coolest. (and she's comin' into her power right now, so WATCH OUT world!!!) Back in our roommate days, Britta's little brother flew out from Pennsylvania to visit her for two-ish weeks and I got to know him in that annoying little brother way. He loved to tease and bother me with little things. Things like singing "That Thing You Do" completely off key and the wrong tune to boot. (love ya, Jazzy!) He also liked to make fun of me when I'd say, "Hey, do you want to watch a show?" Does that sound weird to anyone? No, right? Well, he seemed to think that "show" was the wrong word. He informed me each and every time I said it that it was called a MOVIE. Whatever, Jazz.
He couldn't leave it with the annoying song or the show/movie battle, he also had to inform me all the time that it was a SODA and not a POP. It's futile to argue with Jazz. I'm pretty sure he never even heard me when I tried. But, I got to the point where I'd just ignore him when he'd start. Except that freakin' song. I still hear it all wrong every time I think of that song. Silly boy.
Well, in my little Google search I found a website called "The Pop vs. Soda Page". I found it very amusing that someone actually conducted a study and made a statistical map of who says pop and who says soda. Oh yeah, and let's not forget the south where they call all pop "Coke". I got this map from the website... check it out! And if you visit the website, you can participate in the survey! Let your Pop/Soda voice be heard!!!
My mom's from the south and tells me how they always ask, "Hay! What kainda Coke you wawnt?" and then they proceed to list the different flavors like Sprite, Root Beer, Mt. Dew, etc. It doesn't matter how many times she tells me, laugh every time. Seems so silly to me.
And in case you failed to notice, in Idaho the proper term for a carbonated drink is a "Pop", which, in case you wanted some more Clancy-Trivia, I almost never drink.
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