“My chickens have arrived!!!” exclaims Big A, from the other end of the telephone line, over the road.
I am pleased for him. His run has everything the modern chicken enthusiast could want – including a covered area, a bespoke constructed house and a letterbox – except some chickens. Now this gap has been filled, and he can join our international brotherhood. I give him my congratulations.
“What are they like?” I ask him.
A note of doubt creeps in to his voice. “Well – they look like chickens,” he ponders.
“I need some advice from the expert,” he continues. “What time should I be putting them to bed?”
I am an expert!!! The words resound with me resoundingly. I am so proud of my chickens: they have given me love, and eggs, and the status of an expert. And more eggs. I haven’t been the expert at anything for as long as I can remember. Truly these chickens have changed my life.
“Well I don’t let mine stay up too late,” I caution. “Except on Thursdays when they are allowed to watch ‘Heroes.'”
There is a bemused pause. I am not sure whether he knows that I am joking. They would not be interested in ‘Heroes’, or not the second series, anyway. That is the thing with being an expert – you have to watch what you say as people will take your word as law.
“I think one of them might have an egg stuck -” he begins.
“You’ll need to speak to Short Tony or Len the Fish,” I interrupt immediately.
What day are the chickens allowed friends over.?
does big A have a kitchen diner? Otherwise he’s limiting his market and will never attract those young professional chickens.
Careful now – they’ll soon be calling you “Chicken Jonny” or the like.
Summer is on the way. Is a village fete around the corner? If so, I predict a bit of chicken racing!
Chin chin
Blimey, your neck of the woods is going to be over-run with eggs at this rate; you won’t be able to give them away…
Oh yeah, you’re already at that point. 🙂
Have you taught them to cross the road, yet?
Surely you would be an “egg-spert” rather than an “expert?”
Do you seriously mean to say that they haven’t got their own television yet?
Oh God! We don’t have to go through it all over again with Big A do we? Talk about deja vu! Insert your own accents please.
They are allowed friends over, but not to sleep at night. Not whilst they are under my roof, anyway.
You keep them in your house?
Not even for a hen party?
…one of them might have an egg stuck..
You could avoid stuckages if you arranged weekly yoga classes for the chickens.
Mind though, don’t allow the hens to do Sun Salutations before an image of the Hindu Elephant God Ganesh, as is customary. Instead use an image of Queen Victoria, who looked very much like a black brood hen; the chickens will think she came to earth in their image and rejoice.
Limber, joyful hens will produce many times five of eggs, jonny, and you will be blessed.
“My chickens have arrived!!!” exclaims Big A, from the other end of the telephone line, over the road.
Is it one of those homemade Blue Peter phones made with plastic beakers and string?
Have you see the light and ditched the pink mobile?
JonnyB,
Have you seen these?!!!!
http://www.omlet.co.uk/products_services/products_services.php?view=Eglu%20Cube
As long as there is no cockfighting. It is Norfolk you know.
Why don’t you all just squeeze the chicken with the stuck egg the way you’d squeeze toothpaste?
…one of them might have an egg stuck..
Why not offer a tub of Vaseline?
Ooh yes, series two is rubbish. Well, the first four episodes anyway, I tuned out after that, and so did the cat.
Who writes letters to chickens?
Mya x
I’m with Duncan, above… CHICKEN RACING WOULD ROCK ASS!
Which might dislodge the egg.
Maya asks: Who writes letters to chickens?
James and his cat, now that they no longer watch
Heroes.
guyana gyal asks: …why don’t you all just squeeze the chicken
like a tube of toothpaste…
Because jonny wants the egg, not the
intestines. guyana gyal, if your LTLP ever
gets constipated, call a medic.
girlwiththemask says: I’m with Duncan, chicken racing would rock
ass!
raccoongirl, chickens can’t run in a
straight line. Chickens only run when
frightened, and
then only in erratic patterns at high
velocity until they get dizzy and tip over.
Thus most people prefer
the second season of Heroes to chicken
racing.
Vikki says; …jonny could use up eight eggs with my recipe for
a very large Yorkshire Pudding….
Vikki, you are a sweet, helpful person, but the recipe
you sent was for the binding agent of a pinata. Either
add shredded newspaper to the ‘Yorkshire Pudding,’
or stop frequenting Tequila Night at the pub.
Hamish says: nothing.
Hamish! You are the tender heart who cried when
jonny did a mob hit on #4. There are people on
this site who should be in treatment. I don’t want
to single out anyone (like James and his cat,
Vikki, guyana gyal, girlinamask and
Duncan) but there are desperately lonely, variously
addicted individuals posting on this blog,
and as you well know, the only remedy
in jonny’s medicine kit is a shotgun. Hurry Hamish,
elst jonny’s next ‘treatment’ will be forever on
your conscience.
*I myself have a note from a private physician in
Hollywood testifying to my sound mind and body.
The note is public record, transcript of
Los Angeles County vs. (Me), trial number 1,983,
245 of the month of April 2008. I do not know the
outcome of the trial, but my family promised to
call when it was safe for me to return. Until
then, I must live where my eccentricities are
overshadowed by those of the general populace.
Amazing how I stood out in Los Angeles, even on
Oscar Night, but here I am as ordinary as
Madonna.
Hmmm. I have not heard any more since the weekend. I suspect I would have been informed had there been a continual problem.
I may pop over sneakily to check on their welfare whilst Big A is at work. I am like that, you know.
I bet those chickens will be really happy to see a shotgun-wielding intruder coming around the corner to tickle their prostate. It’s the kind of visit you could do without.