Today began like any other: woke up, showered, ate cold chicken out of a bucket for breakfast, got my daughter ready, sang ELO’s “Evil Woman” on the way to work -- pretty much how billions of other people’s day begins.
Except today day was different. Today I got a note from KFC (yes, “them”) complimenting me about my Colonel Sanders pumpkin and THEN sending “ME” KFC gift checks.
It may be November, but it sure feels a lot like Christmas morning.
(The remainder of this post will be in a southern accent to pay homage to Colonel Sanders, aka: the great originator of fried chicken in a bucket.)
Those who’ve been readin’ this here blog for a while know I’ve been the biggest fan of this here “Kentucky Fried Chicken” (later renamed “KFC” for the hearin’, and maybe readin’, impaired…) ever since I was a wee youngin’.
Maybe it’s because there’s somethin’ comfortin’ about fried chickin’, mashed potatoes, slaw, bisk-ets, after coming home from school, work, prison (ha, just pulling ya’ britches!)
Or maybe because I find it funny that a southern gent in a white suit, calls himself “the Colonel” and then sells fried chickin’ in a bucket. Hoot and hollerin’, side-splittin’ funny!
And the chicken ain’t bad either. Seriously, who doesn’t like deep-fried chicken? Only Satan himself. And maybe hippies. I just love the spicy kind they make -- which ironically isn’t available at all locations...(the Colonel makes me drive to Pasadena to get that special stuff. Making me risk ma’ life dodging ol’ people in their Lincoln intercontinental's and such…)
Around six moonshines ago, I wrote an open letter to the colonel (when they changed their chicken oil to non-trans fat) vowin’ I would never eat that there chickin’ again. That following week I was back again like a whiny drug-addict (sorry Waya and MetroDad…I just couldn’t get on that Popeye’s bandwagon… maybe if it came in a bucket and Mr. Popeye wore a white suit things would be different…)
CONTEST! WIN CHICKEN! (Come on, who doesn't like FREE chicken?)
And guess what the prize is? KFC chicken checks! (thanks to them colonels’ folks.) All you have to do is leave a comment with your email (so I know how to contact you if you win) and tell me a fact about Kentucky (or hippies!)
The fine print: Winners based on originality. Contest only open to US residents and maybe Canadians.
O.k., Canadians can play too (this time!!!) Sorry to my peeps in NZ, Australia, UK, and Ohio. Oh, and some weird people in Malaysia who are always searching my blog for “husbands drinking wife’s breastmilk” – those people aren't eligible for any contest (ever!)