Chicken Picken

A great tragedy occurred today. The Popeyes in the city I go to school in closed down. But that’s not the tragedy. The tragedy is that I still ordered chicken from the “restaurant” that took over. To fully understand the extent of this disaster, lemme give ya’ll a little background: there once was a girl (me) who with her best friend and roommate, Dawg, (so called for reasons of anonymity) used to give plasma for cash while in college at LSU. Now the first place that the girl and Dawg used to visit after giving the blood from their bodies was Popeyes, where the girl would order a number two (with the upcharge) and the Dawg liked to drink strawberry drink. So you see, it could be said that Popeyes is in the girl’s blood.

Now this other, fake Popeyes took down the sign from outside but is in the same building. When I went in (I was suspicious and didn’t want to go through the drive-thru) they still had the same menu pictures up, only there were these stickers on the edge that said “Cajun Cooking.” I should’ve walked out the door when I ordered cajun rice and red beans n rice and they were “out.” But the girl behind the counter said the chicken tasted the same when I commented, “So I guess Popeyes closed down.” Now the manager (another young woman) got a little pissy when I said that (she didn’t exactly slam chicken around, but you get the idea). While I was waiting for my order, another customer came in and when girl #1 asked what she could get him he said he needed a minute because he was expecting Popeyes. I shook my head up and down vigorously and said “Me too!” I maybe should’ve also been clued in by the fact that they didn’t put my chicken in a box, but instead put it in a ghetto little container like what you’d eat a hamburger n fries out of if you were dining in.

It gets worse! When I got back to the car and started driving, I thought to myself: this doesn’t have the same good chicken smell that Popeyes does.

No.

It smelled like peanut oil.

"Cajun cooking" chicken

So while driving, I did a little chicken picken (you know how you do) and that’s when I realized the extent of the mistake I had made. This was NOT Popeyes. The girl misspoke when she said it tasted the same. A Louisianian can tell. Especially one that has spicy chicken in the blood. So what’s a girl to do but call a Dawg and bitch? Dawg definitely felt my pain and misery (even though she evilly asked if my phone had camera capabilities . . . meaning she was gonna go to a REAL Popeyes and take a picture to send me). But the final insult came when I got home. The cajun mashed potatoes that I ordered instead of either cajun rice or red beans n rice had WHITE gravy on them. Insult added to injury.Now the nearest Popeyes is two hours away, and I could justify driving that distance if there weren’t a plasma center closer. What’s a girl to do?

 

Saber-Toothed-Squirrel

Last night I was in bed about half an hour when around midnight I awoke to the sound of my husband screaming/yelling “OWWWWW.” As fast as my sleep benumbed body could respond I was out of the bed and out to the living room, where the scream had come from. And there I see my husband standing by the fireplace with electrical gloves on and both hands gripping a big-ass squirrel. The squirrel was biting him on the thumb.

Now my husband has caught some field mice that have gotten in before using these same gloves, without incident. Yesterday morning we heard scratching at the glass in the fireplace. So we both crept over and peeked inside but didn’t see anything. Well last night he heard the same thing. So he brought Kita over and put her by the fireplace (she was no help) and got his flashlight and quickly yanked the doors open. He said the squirrel was right there, looking back at him. It ran to the corner of the fireplace and in his ‘what to do-what to do’ frame of mind my husband just grabbed it. And got bit.

So after I realized there wasn’t an (human) attacker in the house, I opened the front door for him (his hands were occupied) and he went out and flung it into the yard. (He said that was the only way he could think of to get it to stop biting him.) The bite didn’t break the skin but I told my husband if his jaw starts hurting or he starts foaming at the mouth to do directly to the doctor/hospital. With each tellling of the story, the details get a little more fantastic. Last night he asked me, “Did you see that thing? It wasn’t as big as New Kitty, but it was as big as Kita!” (It wasn’t.) My husband (self-proclaimed warrior) said he had to give “props” to the saber-toothed-squirrel b/c it was a warrior as well. I’m wondering which warrior will clean out the insulation the STS tore out.

 

Fresh Install

I usually like to add photos to my blog posts, but my husband just helped me do a fresh install on my laptop and so all my photos are on the external hard drive and I’m installing a new version of Photoshop (yay) . My laptop feels like a new computer! But to keep things fresh all around, here’s another ‘Funny Things I’ve Heard or Seen’:

1. munch horror – a sub genre of horror that involves many people being devoured

2. helicopter famous – so famous as to warrant the owning of a helicopter

3. “I’ll kick you in the brickles!” – what Jesse Jr. told his daddy (give you one guess what “brickles” mean)

4. “I’m allergic to camels.” – Jesse Jr.

 

Single Ladies

This SNL skit is hilarious! It doesn’t hurt that I love Justin Timberlake too.

Funny, I’ve seen my husband dance like that…and he’s teaching our son how to as well.

 

Some Funny Things I’ve Seen…

…(or heard) so far this week.

1. A breast cancer awareness bumper sticker on a truck that stated:  “save the ta-tas” — Since when are we calling them ta-tas? My three year old doesn’t even call them that. But hey, whatever gets the word out, right?

2. Someone (in one of my classes) left a pair of shoes (“dance” shoes) in a classroom over the weekend…and on Tuesday they were still there. (That’s b/c they were like a size 11 ballet shoe in black…and they were for men.)

3. Overheard: “and then everything fell on the floor and it smelled like fish shit.” Just one question: what exactly does fish shit smell like?

4. A guy wearing a t-shirt that said “big or small we save them all” w/ a pink breast cancer ribbon…maybe he owned the truck.

5. And finally, something that irritated me: people walking in an enclosed area, let’s say an underpass, with a cigarette. No room for the smoke to disseminate except in my lungs.