Feathered Evil
My name is Sara and I am deathly afraid of chickens.
Many of you know that I have a horrible fear of chickens but don't know why. Truthfully, I'm not really sure why I do either but I think it stems from being around 4 years old and being at my Grandma's farm when the family got together to butcher chickens. And when I say "family" I mean the whoooole fam damnily. All 5 of my Grandma's kids and their spouses and kids. They would gather in the one shed with all their chicken torture devices and go to town. The one device was this big wheel with spikey things on it and you held the dead clucker up to it and it would quickly take off the feathers. My Auntie Loretta told me that one time she begged to use that wheel and my Dad told her she would screw it up and she promised she wouldn't. See, you couldn't hold the dead bird too close or it would shred the hell outta the bird.
She held the dead bird too close to the wheel. She never got to touch that wheel again and was sent back to her regular job of plucking pin feathers. Sorry, Loretta!
One thing they used to do "for fun" was cut the heads off the chickens then let them run around headless. Doesn't that sound like a barrel full of monkeys fun??? My siblings and cousins would chase the headless birds around the yard. I was in the house with my Grandma's dog watching "Star Trek" and I hate "Star Trek" but I sure liked it better than those damn chickens!
When I was around 9 or so years old, we went with my Aunt and her two kids to this historic farm over in Minnesota and to get from one area to another, we had to walk through this area inhabited by chickens. I was terrified and I started to cry and my Mom was very unsympathetic. This time in fashion history was when you wore little bootie socks with pom poms on the back and my reason for freaking out was "The chickens will peck off my pom poms!" My evil Mom dragged me through those effing chickens. Obviously that little trek scarred me for life.
A couple years ago, I wanted to spice up the Pillow Fight so I asked what kind of shenanigan I could do if we reached 3500 pillows and my evil sister and close friend both said "PET A CHICKEN!" and I was absolutely, no way in hell ever going to do that. I was adamant about it.
Then I slept on it and realized there was no way we'd ever hit 3500 pillows as it was over 1000 more pillows than we'd collected the year before so I knew I was safe. We didn't get close to that number that year so I threw it out again for the 2019 Fight. I played it up really well and even our company President was giving me crap about it. I even wore a chicken suit to our Pillow Fight Open House. As the numbers came rolling in, I was getting nervous. I was waiting and waiting for our final online numbers and as I was totaling up everything, I was on the verge of throwing up. It was getting closer and closer to 3500.
When the final numbers were done, I'd dodged a bullet by 12 pillows. Holy. Crap.
For 2020, I will definitely offer to pet a freaking chicken if we collect 3500 pillows and maybe, if we collect 4000, I'll even hold one.
OMG; I think I'm gonna throw up just thinking about touching one of those evil, feathered bastards!
Many of you know that I have a horrible fear of chickens but don't know why. Truthfully, I'm not really sure why I do either but I think it stems from being around 4 years old and being at my Grandma's farm when the family got together to butcher chickens. And when I say "family" I mean the whoooole fam damnily. All 5 of my Grandma's kids and their spouses and kids. They would gather in the one shed with all their chicken torture devices and go to town. The one device was this big wheel with spikey things on it and you held the dead clucker up to it and it would quickly take off the feathers. My Auntie Loretta told me that one time she begged to use that wheel and my Dad told her she would screw it up and she promised she wouldn't. See, you couldn't hold the dead bird too close or it would shred the hell outta the bird.
She held the dead bird too close to the wheel. She never got to touch that wheel again and was sent back to her regular job of plucking pin feathers. Sorry, Loretta!
One thing they used to do "for fun" was cut the heads off the chickens then let them run around headless. Doesn't that sound like a barrel full of monkeys fun??? My siblings and cousins would chase the headless birds around the yard. I was in the house with my Grandma's dog watching "Star Trek" and I hate "Star Trek" but I sure liked it better than those damn chickens!
When I was around 9 or so years old, we went with my Aunt and her two kids to this historic farm over in Minnesota and to get from one area to another, we had to walk through this area inhabited by chickens. I was terrified and I started to cry and my Mom was very unsympathetic. This time in fashion history was when you wore little bootie socks with pom poms on the back and my reason for freaking out was "The chickens will peck off my pom poms!" My evil Mom dragged me through those effing chickens. Obviously that little trek scarred me for life.
A couple years ago, I wanted to spice up the Pillow Fight so I asked what kind of shenanigan I could do if we reached 3500 pillows and my evil sister and close friend both said "PET A CHICKEN!" and I was absolutely, no way in hell ever going to do that. I was adamant about it.
Then I slept on it and realized there was no way we'd ever hit 3500 pillows as it was over 1000 more pillows than we'd collected the year before so I knew I was safe. We didn't get close to that number that year so I threw it out again for the 2019 Fight. I played it up really well and even our company President was giving me crap about it. I even wore a chicken suit to our Pillow Fight Open House. As the numbers came rolling in, I was getting nervous. I was waiting and waiting for our final online numbers and as I was totaling up everything, I was on the verge of throwing up. It was getting closer and closer to 3500.
When the final numbers were done, I'd dodged a bullet by 12 pillows. Holy. Crap.
For 2020, I will definitely offer to pet a freaking chicken if we collect 3500 pillows and maybe, if we collect 4000, I'll even hold one.
OMG; I think I'm gonna throw up just thinking about touching one of those evil, feathered bastards!
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