I hope one day he will become a writer. Not because I think being a writer makes you special or worthy, but because I really like what he has to say and the way he says it.
People ask if having chickens is hard. The answer is that having chickens is easy until someone needs an enema.
I can take a day off, I’m not so important that I can’t take a day to revel in a good book. Most of my stress is self-imposed.
Someone would come to the door and he’d let it swing open slowly and say, “Sure is dark on that porch. Ain’t you afraid of getting jumped?” Then when the person stuttered a reply, “Speak up boy! What the hell is wrong with you? Ain’t you never seen a black man before?”
We have some problems with the other flock pecking at each other so now when the Silkies go to the Coop du Jour to range during the day, Annabel the Cannibal goes to solitary confinement at the Poulet Rouge until her Pinless Peepers arrive.
I present to you Le Coop Du Jour. Like soup du jour but with a coop. That’s French for coop of the day because they use it during the day. And coop rhymes with soup. Get it?