Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Sigourney Weaver, the rooster...

Turns out one of these things is not like the others...
The one in the middle is named Sigourney Weaver.  I named "her" way back before we knew just how different she/he was from the others because she/he reminded me of the bitch boss she played in the movie Paul.  Dear, the real Mrs. Weaver, I mean no disrespect, and have mad respect for you, so please don't take offense to this.  It was simply due to your excellent portrayal of meanness in that movie (and a few others.  I believe you may want to talk with your agent about being type-cast).  Anyway, on day 2 of life as a wee chick, this one bit my dog on the nose.  That was the beginning of the end for this girl/guy.  He has since bit all the hens, drew blood from my husband (literally the hand that was feeding him), and attacked my leg as I was walking out of the pen the other day.  And since there's little to no use for a Jerk Rooster in a hen house of layers that we want frying eggs, not hatching eggs from...well...*CHOP!*

Yes, Folks, sorry, but we said a not-so-sad farewell to Sigourney Weaver today.  Let us remember him for his beauty and brawn, and try to put behind us his psycho attacks on those who are bigger, stronger, and smarter than him...maybe I should have named him Christian Bale?    

See what I mean... He was a very handsome man.  However, any man that treats the ladies like he did, has no place at our house...well, he does, but it's in the freezer...

Thanks for stopping by,

No comments:

Post a Comment