Now tell me... I'm a Nebraska farm boy, raised by my Grandparents on an honest-to-the-gods working farm - cattle, corn, and alfalfa, including my Gram's version of 10 acres of gardens, orchards, and free-roaming chickens... but here's my point - I filled and emptied haylofts, and cleaned out barns and chicken coops from the time I was big enough to "help" Grampa until they retired from farming when I was 20... and NOT ONCE did I find something this pretty in the hay!!! Where the hell was it!? ... oh, yeah. Trust me when I say that, after 16 years of cleaning the coop, the only good chicken is a dead chicken - fried in a cast iron skillet with just a touch of beer-n-cornflour breading, and on my plate. I'll take dark meat, thank you...
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Sweet
Now tell me... I'm a Nebraska farm boy, raised by my Grandparents on an honest-to-the-gods working farm - cattle, corn, and alfalfa, including my Gram's version of 10 acres of gardens, orchards, and free-roaming chickens... but here's my point - I filled and emptied haylofts, and cleaned out barns and chicken coops from the time I was big enough to "help" Grampa until they retired from farming when I was 20... and NOT ONCE did I find something this pretty in the hay!!! Where the hell was it!? ... oh, yeah. Trust me when I say that, after 16 years of cleaning the coop, the only good chicken is a dead chicken - fried in a cast iron skillet with just a touch of beer-n-cornflour breading, and on my plate. I'll take dark meat, thank you...
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Comments are welcome, but please note: this is not a public forum but my personal blog, which nobody is forced to read. You don't like what I write, go find a blog you do like; there are millions of others to choose from. Or write your own.
Polite disagreement is one thing, but rudeness will be deleted without hesitation.