chicken

The chicken thing let out a whispering cackle.

Book is the best friend, have no demand, no complain

In Louisiana, one of the first stages of grief is eating your weight in Popeyes fried chicken. The second stage is doing the same with boudin. People have been known to swap the order. Or to do both at the same time.

I wonder Pa went so easy. I wonder Grampa didn' kill nobody. Nobody never tol' Grampa where to put his feet. An' Ma ain't nobody you can push aroun' neither. I seen her beat the hell out of a tin peddler with a live chicken one time 'cause he give her a argument. She had the chicken in one han', an' the ax in the other, about to cut its head off. She aimed to go for that peddler with the ax, but she forgot which hand was which, an' she takes after him with the chicken. Couldn' even eat that chicken when she got done. They wasn't nothing but a pair of legs in her han'. Grampa throwed his hip outa joint laughin'.

It goes without saying that even those of us who are going to hell will get eternal life__f that territory really exists outside religious books and the minds of believers, that is. Having said that, given the choice, instead of being grilled until hell freezes over, the average sane human being would, needless to say, rather spend forever idling in an extremely fertile garden, next to a lamb or a chicken or a parrot, which they do not secretly want to eat, and a lion or a tiger or a crocodile, which does not secretly want to eat them.

And believe me, a good piece of chicken can make anybody believe in the existence of God.

I reach down and grab my cockthe rolling scenery in my mindfar from peaceful

When your mama was the geek, my dreamlets," Papa would say, "she made the nipping off of noggins such a crystal mystery that the hens themselves yearned toward her, waltzing around her, hypnotized with longing.

All lies, freckled vows, crying-weeping on your toesExpected jelly beans gusto, got yourself a life imperfectoToo good a gal, too arrogant a galToo independent, too in need of ChanelTook a careless ride, leaped for a perilous dive Now look who thrived, who gave you a vibe. - Chicken In Chicken Out

Breakfast isn't breakfast without breakfast.

The gilded confines of the Beauty Hall were not my preferred habitat; like the chicken that had laid the eggs for my sandwich, I was more of a free-range creature.

My dad liked to boil a squirrel head and suck the brains out the nose. Smaller than a chicken, bigger than a rat.

I'm sauteing asparagus, Brussels sprouts,broccoli, some boneless, skinless chicken breast, some halibut. That's about it; that's all I'm allowed. That's what's legal for me to saute.

When the FDA announced its intentions to join other countries and ban quinolone use on U.S. chicken farms, the drug manufacturer Bayer initiated legal action that successfully delayed the process for five years.

Obviously, the easiest recipes are the most successful when it comes to the home cook, because they're not intimidated by them. If I'm doing 'Boy Meets Grill,' and I do something very simple like grilled hamburgers or steaks or chicken, those are the most sought-after recipes.

I'm such a fitness freak that I eat so plain, it's gross. I have oatmeal in the morning and then I have chicken breasts and vegetables and spinach shakes.

My mom fed us a lot of processed food when we were kids, like chicken fingers, grilled cheese sandwiches and quesadillas. I make those treats for my family, too, but I use organic cheeses and whole wheat bread and tortillas.

This is how sad my life is: I got a scar from scratching my chicken pox too much. That's my big scar story. I really have no major scars.