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If you saw me coming you'd cross the road too! |
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On the day when the lotus bloomed,
alas, the chicken's mind was straying, and the chicken knew it not. Its basket was empty
and the flower remained unheeded. Only now and again a sadness fell upon the chicken, and it started up from its dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind. That vague sweetness made its heart ache with longing and it seemed to the chicken that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion from the other side of the road. The chicken knew not then that a truck was so near. |
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The regional governors now have direct control over their chickens. Fear will keep those chickens in line... fear of getting hit by a car! |
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Fear will keep the chickens in line, fear of this thoroughfare! |
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This here bird'll cross that road in no time flat, now that I've made a few "special modifications! We've added the Binford 7100 Multi-Purpose power unit, which I've souped up by adding a United Aircraft PT-6 jet engine - Urrgh urrgh urrgh! Heidi, bring out the chicken, please... |
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So that it could sail beyond the sunset. |
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And rooster and hen were married. And rooster did begat chicken. And chicken did cross the road. |
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He among you who has not crossed roads, let him cast the first egg! |
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Because it is the Iron Chicken of the Western World. |
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There was simply no alternative! |
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Because of an imbalance of bodily humors caused by an elf or small toad living in the chicken's stomach. What this fowl needs is a good bleeding. |
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To not go [sic] gentle into that good night. |
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Why the &*%$#@ not? |
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To live deliberately ... and suck all the marrow out of life. |
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Because that's what chickens do best! |
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That's the wonderful thing about Chickens, Chasing Chickens is FUN FUN FUN, And the Wonderful thing about Chickens Is that when crossing streets they RUN! |
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It's got wings that... and a beak that... good god man, look at the bones! |
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The chicken wanted a heart. |
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It followed the cod... |
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The chicken, sunlight coruscating off its radiant yellow-white coat of feathers, approached the dark, sullen asphalt road and scrutinized it intently with its obsidian-black eyes. Every detail of the thoroughfare leapt into blinding focus: the rough texture of the surface, over which countless tires had worked their relentless tread through the ages; the innumerable fragments of stone embedded within the lugubrious mass, perhaps quarried from the great pits where the Sons of Man labored not far from here; the dull black asphalt itself, exuding those waves of heat which distort the sight and bring weakness to the body; the other attributes of the great highway too numerous to give name. |
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Give me ten minutes with the chicken and I'll find out. |
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I feel the chicken's pain! |
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It was experiencing -- GREAT PAIN -- TORMENT! |
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It was running...running away from...no, escaping...oh, Captain, it was fleeing from such -pain-! |
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Captain, I feel a presence out there! |
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Why, to avoid Mrs. Proudy and Mr. Slope, of course. |
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That's not a question we'd prefer to hear from a senior officer. It makes the junior officers nervous. |
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The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated. |
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© 1998 Ervin Nemeth. All rights reserved.