My ChickOWNa

SwampMan was complaining about a hen that had been annoying him at his barn. She had sat on a pile of rope, trying unsuccessfully to hatch it for about a month, then left for a day. She was back a day later, even though he’d moved the rope, setting on nonexistent eggs on a sheet of plywood.

He was working on my no-go vehicle and intermittently fussing about stupid chickens, stubborn wimmen, and old vehicles when My Sharona came on the radio. I started dancing around the barn mostly to annoy SwampMan. The chicken ruffled her feathers at me and glared angrily. Heh. A challenge to my authoritay!

Waving my fingers beside her head to the beat of the music DOOT doo doo DOOT doot DOOOT doot DOOOT doot doot DOOOT My chickowna! Chicken was NOT impressed with my dancing OR singing until I picked her up and started dancing around the barn. Muh muy muh MY chickowna!

We danced and flapped all around that barn until she was tossed into the air and caught one too many times, and she flew off to her imaginary eggs squawking “SAVE ME FROM THIS CRAZY HUMAN!” as loudly as she could. I don’t know what HER problem is. I’M not the one trying to hatch imaginary eggs, after all.

Dang. Guess it could be that she just doesn’t appreciate The Knack like she should.


1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    no2liberals said,

    My Sharona?
    That isn’t a classic, just an oldy, this is a classic, imho.

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