Well I keep forgetting that I have this fantastic medium of musing my thoughts, called a glog. Or something. I don't know. I didn't really get it when the webmaster tried to explain it to me, but he slammed his fist on the desk and told me to "just start typing, for f***'s sake," so here we are.

So as I sit here at Meghan, Pat, and Sarah's kitchen table. really jonesing for a Molson Canadian tall boy, but being too lazy to walk to the LCBO or the nearest bar to get any, I think about the awesome vacation I have had. I had some time off from the job, so I took a bit of time to come down to Toronto. I arrived on Thursday evening, at which point I met Kolter Bouchard at the LCBO at Yonge and Wellesley to pick up the first round of Tall Boys, most of which were gone that night. I took a Tylenol, went to bed, and woke up feeling like a million bucks. I would have slept better with a gorgeous blonde under me, but we all have to make sacrifices, right?

The following few days ended up being pretty much the same story. Eat, drink, sleep. Eat, drink, sleep. Eat, drink, sleep. I got to catch up with most of the gang, hit up all our favourite bars and restaurants, and stay pleasantly drunk. It's weeks like this that make me realize, at this point, AA may be an option, at least for the company. Hmm..."at least for the company"...I think this may be the title to my autobiography.

As my time in Toronto starts to draw to a close (in roughly 24 hours I will be hopping on the train at Union Station), I realized why I missed Toronto so much. Seeing the friends and some family members that I don't get to see as often as I would like, having a great time, and jut rockin' out. And I can't help but wonder how long it will be before I get to do it again. The agreement was that if I find a job and a wife, I will stay, so if anybody knows someone willing to hire and/or marry me within 24 hours, click here to e-mail me. The point is, now I have to go back to real life, and I have 24 more hours to enjoy the freedom. Time to go make the most of it!

And Meghan has a boyfriend now. How disappointing.

Okay, everyone, here's the story. I don't have a microphone that will listen to my angry rants anymore, so instead, they're goin' online. This is one that happened a couple weeks ago that I haven't let go.

An important fact to the story, as those of you who know me or listened to the show regularly will already know, is that I am legally blind. Yes, I can see, but no, I can't do it well.

I am currently a cashier at a certain orange and white home improvement store that shall remain nameless, until I find a job in the industry. Clearly that BA from Ryerson is going far. Anyway, it was a busy weekday afternoon, and I was keeping the lines moving as best as one fat chicken can. A lady came through my cash with two bags of some crap. God only knows what it was, I can't remember, but forget it, that's not important. Anyway, I scan them in, tell her the total, and await her choice of payment method. This, ladies and gentlemen, is when all hell broke loose.

The lady and her funny accent both start flipping out at me. "Those are too expensive! They are supposed to be five dollars each!"

"It's okay," I tell her, "I'll just make a quick call over to seasonal and have them check the price."

Let it also be known that yellow tags marked with "was" and "is" prices denote prices that are to be manually adjusted at the register. At this point, I am unaware that said yellow tags had been attached these products.

"Are you kidding? It's written right on the stupid stuff!" We're back to the lady again, for those of you who didn't follow. The lady had placed the bags as such that the yellow tags were on the bottom, were neither I nor anyone would see them. She, however, knew the tags were there as well as I know that my poop don't smell like roses.

Still the lady talking. "You obviously saw the stickers."

This is when I got pissed.

"Obviously, miss, I didn't."

Maybe this was not the most polite response, but based on how closely I look at the computer screen, my lack of vision is obviously something that is not kept a secret. What I wanted to say was as follows.

"Now, you listen to me, woman. You are about as stupid as I am short, fat, and blind. I obviously didn't see your stickers, moron. If you weren't so horrifically dumb as to (for all I know intentionally to give you an excuse to be a bitch to me) put the stickers on the BOTTOM, this wouldn't be a problem. Fine, though, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you didn't hide the stickers intentionally. Maybe it was an honest mistake. Regardless, a simple 'Those were actually cheaper' would have sufficed, you crazy old psychopath!"

This is where I would pause for a breath.

"So, why don't you go to an orphanage, and tell the children that they obviously have parents? Or to the hospital and tell the people there that they are obviously not really dying of cancer. More or less the same as telling a blind person that they obviously saw something. The only thing I obviously saw was your attitude, and all that taught me is that you're a raving bitch."

This would be the point where I would turn and walk away.

But, I work in the customer service industry. We don't get to say any of these things. The only thing we get to do is stand there with our mouths shut, pretend that we don't hate the customers adjacent to us, and let our self esteem crumble and feel what it feels like to die a bit inside.

Yes, a pair of yellow stickers and the word "obviously" did piss me off enough to spend the last 20 minutes formulating this rant. Normally references to my poor vision don't phase me. I'm the first person to make a blind joke. But if it comes from somebody educated and intelligent is what makes it so non-bothersome. I can't speak for this nutcase's education, but I feel qualified to say that her intelligence was minimal. If she is educated, it didn't work. She should do her best to formulate words and figure out how to get a refund.

Closing sentence here.

As usual, staring into the distance of an empty ILLC lobby inspires me to write my insane, nonsensical, and drunken musings. It is yet another Friday night behind the ILLC Residence Services Desk, and it seems all is quiet on the eastern front. Or are we the western front? Oh well...quiet...that's the point. As I sit here, probably irritating the crap out of Thea, I decide to write my musings out rather than say them out loud. It's safer that way; if she  doesn't have to hear them, my chances of sustaining life-threatening injuries drop significantly. Hopefully the gang over at Pitman has as much fun as Trucker and I did last week. But alas, I digress and return to why this plog somehow ties into something related to The Chicken Show. Coming up in just a couple short weeks is "A Very Poultry Christmas," our annual Christmas special. Catch it during our regular time slot, Wednesday, December 1st, at 7PM. It will have all the crazy antics that you love from TCS, plus a whole bunch of poultrylicious Christmasness. Be sure to check it out!

Hey folks, it came time to write a blog, so here I am! I just turned to Ben, who is watching Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life" with me right now on our 42-inch TV, patiently waiting in hopes that Thea can come for a drink, while Mike works away at the Theatre School, and I said to Ben, "I need to write a blog,"  and once again, here we are. That was probably one of the worst run-on sentences I have ever written. That English minor is going to good use, folks! Anyway, make sure to tune into the show this week. I promise some comic gold like you have grown to love in our 7+ years on the air. And maybe Ben not being a douche for once. Although, Ben may be a douche, but dammit he is OUR douche!

Hello all,

I just wanted to give you all a quick hello during the summer break. Even though our show is off the air until the new school year, the website remains fully functional and active. I hope you are all enjoying your summer breaks, and are having a great time wherever you may be, whether it be at home working, or staying in the city where you go to school, or whatever. Those of you who are out in the working world, earning an honest day's living, I can sympathize. As of Saturday I will be tying on the orange apron as I start my job at The Home Depot. Actually, for me they had to sew two orange aprons together, because they couldn't find one that was big enough. I promise, though, they are not sponsoring me to mention them in my blog. I just felt like sharing my story with all of you. Other people who are out in the working world, drop me a line by e-mail and let me know how things are going, maybe send me a funny story a bout your best working experience, and we can read it on our first show back in the new school year. Anyway, I am signing off for the night, so enjoy, and have an awesome summer.

And remember to also take a glance at my previous post, which my classy broad of a coworker, Ashley Fitzgerald, pleasantly titled "Boobies."

Rock on,
Chickenman

Hello, beloved blog readers, and happy new year! I hope you all had an enjoyable and safe holiday season, and are finding success in your new year's resolutions.

If everything goes according to plan, we will be back next week (the week of January 11th), with our all-new, two-hour, currently undetermined time slot. Be sure to check out our first show, which will feature the best clips from 2009. Ben and I have dug deep into the archives and found some great clips from the first semester of this year and second semester of last year - basically everything since our "Best of 2008" show last January. Check it out for some hilarious and crazy antics that are sure to keep you entertained.

Best wishes in the new year and rock on as always,
Chickenman

Hi all,

I feel like it's been way too long since I've blogged to all of you. I am really impressed with how the show has been going so far this year. We have had a lot of laughs, welcomed a lot of excellent new voices, and best of all, had a bunch of great callers - which means people are actually listening!

Anybody who has heard the show in the past few weeks has heard about the "Mystery Caller." If you are the mystery caller, or you know who it is, please call us up during the show this week at 416-260-9893 and let us know, or click here to drop me an e-mail. I am really curious to talk to you again!

Rock on,
Chickenman