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The piece that I just vomited up on your bedroom floor. That is my favorite piece of chicken.

I'm a breast man. At least on the subject of chicken.

Dark meat in general. I just can't get with white meat - too dry. Dark meat's got all the pizzazz and taste.

Thank ya'all for the warm welcome. I've lurked here for quite a while learning what music to listen to, how to dress, how to talk, what to read, what to watch and even how to think, mixed with your quirks and idiosynchrocies. I'll soon start a poll on post-deification hygiene, so we can all get that straight, too. I do tend to profile people like the quiet guy at the party who doesn't say many unnecessary trivialities, initially. It's only fair, (and fun), that I reciprocate a little. Soon, if not already some of you will wish me to go away, or at least be quiet. Many of you created, or at least appreciate the music that has been the soundtrack to my life so we all share a common bond. No, a group hug is not necessary.
A few of you have made some rather scathing remarks regarding my masculinity and sexuality. I am strikingly handsome when I choose to be, so I'll classify your comments on my desirability as a compliment. Prison rape is a very serious issue and I'm amazed that some of you have the audacity to be so callous. Didn't mommy, (or equivalent), teach you not to be so mean?...Didn't daddy teach you not to be so cliche'.


I have time for one more quick prison tale from everybody's favorite "piece of chicken" before I have to tend to the cookies that I've been baking. (I'm so "from the streets", that I didn't use baking powder, and I used a broiling pan.)

Rape is a serious reality in some environments, yet is is consistently joked about. The slipperiness of the soap is directly proportional to the effort applied vainly, and dearly clutching it. You learn all about the trajectory of soap, if it slips you catch it. Whew!! You become trained to squat when bending over to refrain from winking at the room full of nude males. The hovering squat over toilets is another skill I imagine only to be mastered by inmates and the lovely female half of our species. As much as I wanted to utilize my time studying higher mathematics and sciences and enhancing myself reading classic literature and pondering philosophy, it was rarely an option. I was usually limited to reading Clancy, Gresham, middle school texts, or other similar mindless drivel. I needed new avenues until I could get transfered to a place with an actual library. The "weight pile" was one way to better yourself whilst dreaming of all the females that it would attract once allowed to pillage freely in society. Pro-active sociology was also interesting.
I would be showering with the "homies" and inevitably, the eventual fresh and scrawny, new kid on "the block" would nervously appear...grasping his soap as if his white knuckled life depended upon it. Ahhh, the ritual begins. Immediately, me and my big muscled friends would get quiet and put on our serious faces. Yes, the tension was building. We had all been in long enough to understand the flight-path of squeezed soap. It didn't matter where the kid stood, any one of us possessed the skills necessary to make our bar of soap land directly in front of the new guy. "You wanna get that for me?", was the first thing spoken. While the new guy trembled, with darting eyes, another "homie" would proclaim, "You better get that for him.", or "What the fuck do you mean by "No!"" Before the target could fight, flee, yell, or even whimper someone would lose their composure and start laughing. We would promptly assure him that we were only teasing and that it had happened to all of us, (even if it hadn't). Hell, perhaps that ritual has perpetuated itself and still happens in the same place to this day. I'm sure its gone on for longer than any of us have been alive.

Yes, they do let anyone in here now.
Carry on.

Hairy wrote:How come I can't vote for the Neck?

"We take the best part--the neck!--and add real hobo spices!"