Chicken Scratch

aaawk…

Hey, keep it down on those keyboard keys – I got me a doozy of a brain banger this mornin’…

Man, ya check out one innocent little All-You-Can-Drink Margaritas night at the local TGIF, and suddenly ya find yerself serenadin’ the cleanin’ staff at Wally’s All-Nite Bowl-O-Rama… I may have made a bit of a fool a myself…

aaaawk…

Is it just me, or does everybody’s temples in here beat like a bass drum in a marchin’ band?? One a my ears seems to be missin’…

I think this pretty much wipes out my dry streak – I had been watchin’ my booze consumption for the marathon I’ve entered this spring, but there’s a pretty good chance I made up for lost time last night. I thought I had just one or two, but it feels this mornin’ like it coulda bin more like three…

aaaawk…

I do have a dim memory of some tough-talkin’ mallard suggestin’ he could put back more Margaritas than any chicken in the house, but that’s about the last thing I remember. I don’t even recall seein’ him again – no…wait a minute - I do remember now. Last I saw, he was waddlin’ along through the kitchen, and one a the cooks invited him in for a look at the pate preparation area. Hope he doesn’t “spread” himself too thin!

Ooooh…bad joke and poundin’ head makes for one unhappy chicken. I gotta hit the bricks. Or my coop…

Cluck for now!!!