YSaC, Vol. 832: Rooster? I hardly know ‘er!
FAMELE AND FEMALE CHIKENS FOR SALE – $30
O K PEOPLE AM SALLING THIS COUPLE OF CHIKEN MALE AND FEMALE IF YOU LIKE FRESH EGGS EVERY DAY THIS IS IT THEY ARE NICE DONT MAKE ANY NOICE AND THE ROSTER GIVES GOOD EGGS FOR TO MAKE A FAMILY/I LIKE THEM BUT MY WIVE SPENDS TOO MUCH MONEY ON THEM,SHE WILL NOT EAT THEM/AND FOR ME IS JUT WASTING MONEY.THE MALE IS ONLY 3 MONTH OLD THE FEMALE IS 5 MONTH OLD! YOU CAN GET BIG CHICKENS OUT OF THIS COUPLE SEE THIS MY WIVE DONT WANT TO EAT THEM ,SO IF YOU WANT A FRESH CHICKEN SOUP THIS IS IT!! MAKE ME AN OFFER!!!!???
We here at YSaC have a bit of history with roosters. I’m not entirely sure what it is about roosters that brings out the best in people; it must be the good eggs the rooster gives to make a family. That, and the rooster can almost definitely write better than this hen-pecked fellow.
like new
Well I bought these bananas and ate a few but now they just sit in my kitchen and my wife keeps bitching at me to do something with them,there kinda old but really there still eatable…..edible……
whatever, u could use them for banana nut bread or what ever just get ahold of me I’m. Really tired of hearing her bitch thanks,
I have a theory about this one. Bananas, as we all know, contain potassium, which decays into antimatter. Obviously this fellow’s wife is super-sensitive to the antimatter emanating from these like new kinda old bananas, and is insisting that he get these public health hazards out of her home as quickly as possible.
Thanks, Erin and cheeryblossom!
I’m particularly impressed by the rooster that doesn’t make any noice. I mean, everyone knows how quiet roosters are in general, particularly at the break of day, right?
That’s NOICE Camille!
As in “no ice” (which, apparently you’ll just have to continue get your ice the old fashioned way).
Noise is an entirely whole other thing.
Silly rooster.
Ohhhhhhh. I’d like the upgrade to the rooster with the automatic icemaker, please.
I thought they meant noice as in, “Thassa rayllee noice roostah yeh goat there, mite!”
Okay, I’ll charter the boat to Alaska, find my ice chipping tools, and rent a refrigerated truck. Dang chiken having noice.
Yep, roosters are the ninjas of the barnyard.
“Yeah, like, I could take the not eating part, okay, they’re sorta cute; but man, my wife can chuck out the dough on these two. Gotta draw the line at their own cable sets in the coop and electric blankets on their nests! Plus she keeps driving to gone and back for these smelly old bananas to feed them… Sheesh. Ok, so make me an offer.”
I say uh, I say… nice, uh, nice fotygraff there.
OT — Did you ever read “Moo Moo Clack Clack: Cows That Type” (Grampdaddy’s or Manda’s kind of book.) The animals were pretty demanding in there also.
Love that book and the sequels.
Oh! Oh! Oh! I read that one!!!
YOU KNOW I CAN’T REALLY FIND ANYTHING WRONG WITH THE FIRST POST IM SURE THERES SOMETHING THERE BUT IM GATTING THE FEALING THAT THE LLAMANUN MIGHT BE PICKING ON THE POUR GAI JUST BECAUSE SHE DOESNT LIKE CHICKENS AND THINKS THAT WE SHOULDNT GIVE THEM A NEVERMIND EITHER
Here Taco, have a banana.
The way he’s talkin’ I think we should offer him a cheezburger.
Or buffalo wings. Shouldn’t be paying those winged buffalo a nevermind either (was that a double negative?).
Where’s Lola’s flask?
*passes flask*
Yea, flask! 8) I’ll take a shot of tea, myself.
I could really use a sip outta that flask myself.
I’m having a bit of a day/week like that myself. I think the Snark Lounge doesn’t need a flask so much as it needs an entire beverage smorgasbord and … possibly a bouncy castle. Or a giant feather bed. Or giant bouncy castle with feather pillow top.
While we’re at it, I think I’d like my own personal masseur (Cubano for preference), whatever’s over in the window at Tiffany’s, a $100 million in a trust fund, and a pony.
I know where you can find a half-monkey half-pony monster.
Uh … pass.
But thanks! 8)
We had a drink smorgasbord for a while. I remember being bartender. We should just open that back up.
*singing slightly out of tune* Isn’t it enough I ruined a pony making a gift just for you?
Well, let’s see… my English class can hook you up with an African Sweethands Masseuse.
Ooooh, a giant bouncy feather bed castle. Sounds like just the thing after a long day. I might never leave.
I’m not even 1/64th Cuban, but I’m a hell of a masseur. And I will massage for free for my friends, just pass the flask…
You forgot the apostrophe in “I’m”. Just sayin’. I mean, JUST SAYIN’.
YOU DONT APPOSTROPHIZATE WHEN YOURE EMPATIC!
(Ok, that’s making my brain hurt.)
I WILL TYPE IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS FOR EMPASYS!!!!!!
Not to be a boter but don’t you two tink you forgot someting, maybe a letter, or someting? I mean, maybe it’s just me, but someting seems very wrong ere. Oter tan te capitals, of course.
Tis looks very Britis, does it not? Tea, biscuits, and oter suc nonsense.
I’m at a loss as to explain how a “roster” can “gives good eggs”. I am really extra-sure positive it doesn’t work that way.
If I were Sparky I wouldn’t want to get rid of this rare rooster mime, no matter how much my “wive” spent of it. All the roosters I’ve known have been really loud really early in the morning.
Perhaps the “rooster” Sparky has is actually a second hen (which would explain the egg giving and the non-crowing). I mean, Sparky did say:
If you sound it out phonetically, “FAMELE” could be “family”. So that would mean Sparky is selling his family and a couple of chickens. I guess he got tired of the wife spending all their money on the chickens and decided to get rid of all of them.
I think science needs to look into this famele rooster who gives good eggs. It could totally revolutionize the chicken-farming industry – chickens who fertilize, lay, and hatch the eggs themselves!
I guess “hermaphrodite” was too hard to speel, so he’s salling.
According to dear Uncle Google, there are diseases that will cause a rooster to change sex into a hen and occasionally lay an egg, but at that point it’s not really a rooster anymore.
Dr. Wick E. Pedia says that if you have a rooster’s egg and can get an toad to incubate it, you can hatch out a cockatrice, which has the power to turn people into stone.
There’s a boulder down the road with a giant sword stuck in it sarajean. Hurry!
:hops on unicorn and gallops off to find sword:
Alas, a unicorn!?
**watches SJ with raised eyebrows**
I call next!!!
Isn’t that a basilisk? Or was that Medusa, or another such Gorgon? I love mythology.
I’m pretty sure a basilisk and a cockatrice are the same thing, maybe a rooster/hen difference? I’m too lazy to Google it (but not too lazy to capitalize Google, you notice).
Either a basilisk or a cockatrice, I’m not entirely certain which was the first one associated with the “rooster’s egg” genesis (which has, itself, undergone a permuation or two).
Medusa and her two sisters are, I believe, a little older and also have several origin stories. At least one story has the first flying horse spring from the sand where the spurting blood from Medusa’s neck hits after Perseus cuts off her head when she was sleeping on the beach.
Ok, now who will start baiting me THIS time by calling flying horses “pegasi.” (They *aren’t*… “Pegasus” was the proper name of a particular flying horse, dammit!)
Actually, yes, I will “bait” you, as you so eloquently put it. Pegasus was the name of the first flying horse in Greek mythology, yes, but after that all flying horses were called Pegasi, in honor of Pegasus.*
*This may actually be false. I could be wrong, but I think it’s
write** right.**I actually have no clue why I did that. Just seemed fun at the time.
Once again, Dr. Pedia comes to the rescue! Basilisks are more lizard-like and are hatched by a rooster from an egg laid by a toad. (And “its weakness is in the odour of the weasel”, according to the Doctor.) Cockatrices are hatched by toads from eggs laid by roosters and have feathers and wings, making them more like scaly birds. [/corey]
Okay, I’m definitely going to have to get out the corey tags for this one, [foul corey] but there’s a queer kind of sense to what Sparky is saying. Hens will lay eggs whether or not there’s a rooster around, so you might say that, without a rooster, hens give bad eggs “for to make a family.” But with a rooster around, the rooster can turn those eggs into good eggs “for to make a family.” [/corey] Carry on.
Thanks, Stephanae, I’m too late to the conversation, but that is exactly how I and my decoder ring translated the ad.
Same here. The only problem with Sparky’s logic in asserting that his rooster is a super-inseminating macho stud – there are no actual baby chickens in that photograph, only a hen that’s two months older than the rooster. Unless Ramses the SuperRoo is into time-travelling incest, there’s no way to tell if he does, in fact, “gives good eggs for to make a family”.
[fowl corey]
Well, to get a hen laying, you need a rooster nearby. Younger roosters seem to work better for production laying. (Dunno if that’s real; just know too many chicken farmers who hold to that as if it were gospel).
Now, if you want more chickens, by way of fertilized eggs, you have to let at least one hen “free range” with the rooster. This is tricky, though, as a brooding hen (one having laid eggs recently) will not seek to mate with a rooster. So, the incipient chicken breeder is better served to find a younger, unbred, hen for turning out fertilized eggs.
Which means, for the more urban (even the urbane) types answering the ad, they’ll need a candling machine, lest they get a surprise making omelets.
[/been and done and taken decades the get the smell off corey]
“Rooster Mime” for pretentious hipster band name of the day. Their first album, which is pseudo-alt-folk-country-terrible is “Well I bought these bananas and ate a few but now they just sit in my kitchen and my wife keeps bitching.”
They won’t be at the 40 Watt because they don’t want to be corporate sellouts.
Great band. Big Fan. Love the name of their first album. Can’t wait to hear the first single. (May also be having hallucinations today or my alter-ego has taken control of the keyboard.)
I think I saw them at a house party, right before the neighbors called animal control because they thought the noise was coming from a bunch of neglected goats.
And here I thought they were the new band for freecreditreport.com
I voted for them!!! Did they lose?!?!
:dons pretentious hipster beret:
Oh, them. If other people have heard of them then I guess I don’t like them anymore. They’ve gotten so mainstream, they actually expect people to pay to see them. Pfffftt, what poseurs. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go look bored at a poetry reading and beg some friends to feed me after I spent all my disposable income on a vintage suede vest.
[hipster ot] My eldest had no idea what a hipster was until I told her right before taking her to The Grill a downtown eatery run by and for hipsters. Once she saw one, she was unimpressed. [/ot]
Yeah, but this is the same girl who loves her some Jersey Shore.
😉
I used to identify myself as a hipster, back when it meant having an obsession with the beat writers of the forties and fifties, spending all night drinking coffee, smoking and writing endless run on sentences that were so profound!
Does the fact that I shun the idea that bearded guys in skinny pants and irony, who listen to music that gives no thought to music theory make me even more of a hipster?
The last sentence should read that I shun the idea that those guys are hipsters, and I question if that makes me a hipster.
I apparently lost my profound writing skills when I added color to my wardrobe.
Mudsy, you’re confusing me with another poster. My daughter has never seen the Jersey Shore. She’s into Simpsons, Anime, Manga, Doctor Who and whatnot. Especially the whatnot.
re
I think you lost these as well,christina.
Oh yeah. That was Steph. This has been a long day and my brain feels like a fried egg.
*recants snark aimed at kelli*
Sarajean, will you accept that I left them off ironically?
Were you wearing your pretentious hipster beret at the time?
No, but I was wearing a Lite Brite t-shirt and I joined a band called ‘re’.
Hmmm, other than the Simpsons, that sounds suspiciously like me. Oh, and I’m not female. There’s that too.
NMN, she’s also a gamer.
Dang. christina, I snuck in and edited back in the re, and now the rest of the thread doesn’t make sense. You want I should take it back out? 8(
Nah, now it’s even more ironic :p
If only all the irony here could do something about my anemia, I’d be set.
I like to eat eat eat chickens and bananas… checkens end benenes … chackens ond bonobos … chokings und bennies
I like pi.
chalkings ind jelly beans? Makes my mouth water.
No no no. Don’t eat the bonobos. Some scientists believe they’re even more closely related to humans than the common chimpanzee.
Umm…[corey][/corey] probably goes somewhere up there.
I loved that song… when I was 5.
It’s all fun and games until the rooster pecks you on the keister, and the hen scratches your arms while you try to gather the yard eggs. Wouldn’t have been a problem, ‘cept the missus don’t truck with the notion to take a hatchet to the rooster. Oh no, she won’t have nothing to do with the plucking the feathers and cooking that scrawny bird. Squeamish is what she is. Treated them damn birds like they was her own kids or something. Each egg was like a grandchild to her… kept telling her that the rooster wasn’t old enough to be a daddy, but could a man get a decent omelet around here? Oh Nooooo!!!!
So come take these things off my hands. Someone has to go, and it ain’t gonna be me!
Could also be that somebody fears the omens and portents that might be revealed in the egg-producing rooster, should it be reduced for cooking–all Hallow’een is nigh, y’know . . .
Son, I say, Son…just ’cause I fill in for the Easter Bunny on the days when he’s feelin’ a bit low–havin’ chased a wild hare or two, y’undestand– you’ve got to see the BIG PICTURE, Son! Don’t be confusin’ me with any lady hen, now…I give eggs to the children, ya see, I don’t make them. Infringement of trade, my missis would say.
Softly, softly… no noice, just USDA Grade A rooster in my Sunday feather suit, here to dress up your lawn.
Having a little identity confusion here…
You’re in luck… I couldn’t find a decent picture of the chicken hawk.
google images had a couple!!
What a lovely shoulder-knees-tail on that cock!
Some people say that’s my best side.
Ahem…or something like that.
Spunt was torn.
“I can’t take it!” his wife lamented. “I just can’t! They’re dying, dying right there on the table and the stink of death is everywhere! I just can’t stand it anymore! You have to do something about them!”
That was what he had on the one hand, and he himself couldn’t take any more of that.
On the other hand, Spunt was rather taken with the stink of death. It was real. Natural. It reminded him of, and made him appreciate his own mortality. Specifically, it reminded him that they would die long before he did, and that pleased him.
“At least if we had poultry we could have eggs or chicken for dinner, but no. we have those rotting freaking fruits. Either those putrefying bananas go or I do!” his wife screamed, punctuating the last with a cat-startling stamp of her spike-heeled foot before tromping off to the bedroom and slamming the door.
What was he to do? He could have bought a pair or chickens. Or roosters. Or whatever they were — he wasn’t good at sexing fowl; they never responded to any of his pickup lines. But he was really in the mood for bananas, so he bought a bunch. After a couple of them though he really lost the mood and just didn’t want then anymore. The very sight of them turned his stomach, and yet he’d somehow developed a certain attachment to them.
So now they sat in a bowl on the dining table turning a virulent shade of black, kept company only by a cloud of fruit flies who frankly weren’t good conversationalists. But then neither were the bananas. But they didn’t have to be. Their very presence and state of decay comforted his psyche.
What to do? He couldn’t just throw them away. They had become a symbol, a metaphoric affirmation of one’s life through death — something else’s death. A banana-scented death. Perhaps he could offer it to someone else, pass along the tangible message of life’s fragility as it succumbs to the inevitable force of entropy. Surely someone else out there would appreciate such an empowering yet ephemeral totem. At least it would save his marriage while doing someone else some good as well. Preferably someone who was single.
He posted on Craigslist, but the responses he started getting weren’t what he had hoped. One respondent asked if he had any molding apples. Another wanted grapes, because grapes represented the many facets of life. Still another lambasted him for his cruelty to innocent tree fruit. After some back and forth with one promising request, he discovered that his prospect wanted to turn them into bread, which was totally not the point of his offering. Oh, the guy claimed it would be a symbol of rebirth, which itself would eventually turn into its own symbol of decay, but the argument held no weight when Spunt asked what the bread would be turned into when it started moldering in order to perpetuate the analogy; his prospect had no answer to that.
The days passed. The bananas grew winter coats which the growing swarm of fruit flies took refuge in. Or ate. Whatever it was they did. His wife made good on her threat, packed her bags and left without telling him where she was going. She took the cat, who had taken to growling and hissing at the fruit dish — and then at him, presumably because he smelled like dead bananas, too, and his increasingly unshaven appearance wasn’t helping any.
Nobody wanted his symbol, just as nobody wanted him, now. It had become a bowl of furry mush, much like his life had become. They shared so much now, Spunt and the bowl of former bananas. He hated it. And he loved it. He wanted to throw the bowl out, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
The doorbell chimed. The hypnotic spell of the compost broke, and he looked toward the door. Who would be calling on him? Surely it couldn’t be his wife, and he wasn’t expecting any deliveries. The caller began knocking impatiently and Spunt realized that sitting at the table wondering about it wasn’t going to produce any answers. He got up and opened the door.
A man in an unfamiliar uniform stood there. Underneath each arm was a chicken. Or rooster. Or one of each, maybe — he still wasn’t good at sexing chickens. “Delivery for you, someone wanted you to have these.” With a heave, the delivery man thrust the fowl through the front door to the sound of frenzied clucking, then turned and walked away without another word.
Spunt looked at the poultry. They were wandering around, heads bobbing ridiculously, the occasional cluck emerging as if to greet everything in their path.
Spunt sighed with resignation, kneeled down next to one of them, raised an eyebrow and, with a suggestive glance, tried again: “So, how you doin’?”
Just so y’all know, I had no idea where I was going with that one. I was just, er … winging it.
Don’t answer the phone today. I’m afraid you’ll get a call from PETF (People for the Ethical Treatment of Fruit/Fowl).
Ring…..ring….ring….
Good thing there’s no PETI. That would be People for the Ethical Treatment of Idiots.
If there was, this site, and many many other sites, would not exist.
I am a card-carrying member…that’s right a card-carrying member of PETA – People Eating Tasty Animals – and we approve this ad.
CJ — I believe Mr. Artsy and his son are also card carrying members.
I’m a platinum member of PITA.
I was the recipient of the PiTA of the year award for 2009. I’m trying for a repeat this year…
Teaser chapter of Stephen King’s new novel: Pet Chicken Sematary or was that The Dead Fruit Zone…?
Bombdude:
My sister has been the International Champion for the PiTA Award since 1999.
That’s because your sister is that young, isn’t it? Which means you’re almost that young? I could have had a child in 1999. Thanks, Astro, now I feel old. Which should make those around here over 30 feel ancient. Well, that made me feel better. (You’re welcome.)
Astro…
Yeah, what AR said. Any minor under the legal age of majority (redundancy anyone?) is automatically disqualified due to overqualification for the PiTA award system. Everyone knows that anyone 18 and under is a PiTA by hormonal influence and therefore is chemically not eligible for consideration for the award.
I feel like I should know just what the heck a PiTA is…oh well.
I don’t know either NMN.
Pain in The A$$…
I nearly got kicked out of the library when I got to the part about pick-up (pickup?) lines. Mindfield, you’re brilliant.
This Friends-aholic approves of the ending.
I’ll take that 3 month old, egg laying rooster. I’m going to take him on the talk show circuit “Regis and
KathieKelli” (whoever), “Oprah”, “Jerry Springer” and “Dr. Phil”. This is a miracle,a rooster laying egan egg laying roster that's only 3 months old. Just imagine how many obos I'll get for each egg. When the fanfare dies down, I'll startspellingselling them on CL for $20 for 1 egg or $60 for 2 eggs. Sounds like a well thought out business plan to me.Artsy, it’s Regis and Kelly. Ms.Ripa spells her name wrong.
*Looks at “Chiken^.”*
*Looks at “Noice.”*
*Looks at “Roster.”*
*Headdesk. Headdesk. Headdesk.*
^He misspelled chicken three times, but did get it right near the end. Did he decide, “Eh, no one will notice.”?
I’m sure the “getting it right” bit was completely accidental.
[matt] How dare you make fun of this poster’s spelling skills. Can’t you see that this was obviously posted by the jealous duck? How the heck do you expect a duck to know how to spell all those complicated words? Is it not enough that this poor waterfowl spent months learning to type using his webbed feet? No, that’s never good enough for you supposedly superior primates! [/matt]
[vegetarian corey] I buy chik’n, chix, chikin and too many more to list. Maybe Sparky is a lifetime vegan who is unclear on the concept? [/tree hugging granola crunching big bag of ‘fu lovin’ corey]
[book ot] There is a wonderful children’s book whose title eludes me that features a fowl of some sort that winds up on the most wonderful farm she’s ever seen run by a vegetarian who lets the animals live out their lives in peace and tranquility, using only the eggs and milk that are produced. It was far less preachy than a lot of the books I’ve read in that subject. My second daughter has been a vegetarian since age 8 and I’ve tried to find books that show her viewpoint for the younger girls. [/ot]
Veggie Kids Books
I’m not sure about books specifically for girls, but I liked Much Ado About Aldo when I was a kid.
Mudsy, you may want to take a look at your link. I ended up in what I think was the wrong place.
Anyone else feeling an overwhelming urge to channel Chico Marx for the first ad?
“Dassa right…we gotta you chikens…noice, noice, chikens…dey makea eggs..one, two, tree times a-day. Anna, whena you get tired of da eggs..you a gonna have a nice chiken zoup.”
Just me, then? Okay.
I wasn’t until you mentioned it CJ. And now I have an overwhelming urge to watch Duck Soup.
I hope Meej shows up today so we can shout Happy Birthday! Also, because it’s chicken related.
Oct. 29 is Eclectic Blue’s Birthday!
Oct. 31 is Cap’n Mac’s Birthday! Awesome!
We don’t seem to have any birthdays in the first weeks of November. How odd.
Ceci n’est pas un rooster?
Thanks for the birthday wishes! I almost always at least check in on the site on weekdays, even if I don’t feel snark-inspired to post a comment (or have time).
Happy birthday!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
Yo, Peep! Happy Birthday!♥!
Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy birthday
Bon anniversaire, Meej!
Happy happy birthday!!
Bon anniversaire!
Aww, thank you all! Y’all’re the best.
Happies!!
I’m quite late to the party, but better late than never.
Happy Birthday to Meej,
Happy Birthday to Meej,
Hope you enjoy the party(j),
Meej, Meej, Meej!*
*You try rhyming stuff with Meej, then!
Happy Birthday! (Belated.)
Uh, 31 Oct is not my birthday (june’teenth is). Used to be my mother’s, though.
When is June’teenth is nonoldfogey speak?
I think that’s more SouthernSpeak than Oldfogeyspeak. June’teenth is June 19th.
I thought SouthernSpeak was a dialect of OldfogeySpeak*
*I’m just going to crawl under the table before things start flying towards me.
[corey] Juneteenth is the celebration of the emancipation of slaves, specifically the slaves in Texas, who were not freed until a few years after the signing of the original Emancipation Proclamation.
It disturbs me that this only seems to be taught in Texas schools where there is a large minority population. Had I not taken African American Literature in college, I wouldn’t have known about this, My African American History classes didn’t even cover Junteenth. [/corey]
San Diego has a Juneteenth celebration every year. I have to admit I never heard what was behind the date, but now it makes perfect sense!
Awww…And I was gonna celebrate with the traditional Papering of the Tree.
:puts toilet paper back in bathroom:
I guess I’ll just have to console myself with this bowl filled with miniture chocolate bars.
Dang, Cap! How did I get that so wrong? Sorry, it’s fixed now.
We used to have an irregular regular whose b.d. is 31 October.
She seems to have vanished (an amazing feat of prestidigitation, for living 3.1 miles from me).
Now, if you wish to self flagelatte, well, if that floats your boat–whatever; go look back to this last June about that time.
[corey]June’teenth (the way we we taught to spell it in class) used to only be a Texas holiday. To celebrate the reading of the Emancipation Proclamation at Ft Bolivar, Galeveston, Texas in 1865, the year after the war ended. 30-36 other states now (last decade or so) recognize it, but not to street parades, picnics and the like.
[/corey]
(would corey more, but I have a ride to the bar–later, chickens!)
An amazing feat, you say???
Law & Order voice
So she used to live about 3 miles from you did she??? And her birthday was October 31? you didn’t like that did you?!?!?! Took too much attention from your Cap’n Mac persona, did it?!!? Juneteenth!! Ha!!! You killed her and disposed of her body in the alligator infested bayou, didn’t you!!
October 30th is the 52nd Annual Cary Band Day.
February 30th is National Make Zero Sense Day.
I thought that was divide by zero day?
The first of Octember is when you get all the cool stuff Dr. Suess promised
What is Sparky’s wive going to say when he tells her he salled the chikens?
“That was the dog, you idiot” is my guess.
I think of greater import is what the local authorities might have to say about it.
So I know you can’t sell pets on CL, you can only charge a “rehoming fee.” Is selling farm animals considered different, or is Sparky1 running afowl of the rules here?
Offer doesn’t have to be money! Maybe just a swap for a chiken hok.
[corey] Livestock can be sold on CraigsList, usually under the farm & garden heading. During certain times of year there are usually lots of ads for free chickens and there’s almost always ads for free roosters. The only reason I can think of that they are not considered pets and subject to the same “rehoming fee” business is because livestock is usually raised for a distinct purpose (eggs, bacon, milk, etc…) and not as companion animals. There’s also less chance of someone trying to “flip” a chicken(Aquire it for free and then turn around and sell it for a profit)then say, a puppy.[/corey]
Opening for “Rooster Mime” (on the corner of ###### and ######), all the way from ‘cross town: the Chicken Flippers!
Did nobody notice my pun? Aww. ::pouts in corner of Snark Lounge::
With a very very small bit of editing, this can be sung to the tune of “To Anacreon in Heaven” (also know as “The Star Spangled Banner”).
Who would a thunk it?
O K PEOPLE AM SALLING
THIS COUPLE OF CHIKEN
MALE AND FEMALE
IF YOU LIKE FRESH EGGS EVERY DAY
THIS IS IT THEY ARE NICE
DONT MAKE ANY NOICE
AND THE ROSTER GIVES GOOD EGGS FOR TO MAKE A FAMILY
I LIKE THEM BUT MY WIVE
SPENDS TOO MUCH MONEY ON THEM.
SHE WILL NOT EAT THEM AND FOR ME IT WASTES MONEY.
THE MALE IS ONLY 3 MONTHS; THE FEMALE IS 5 MONTHS OLD!
MAKE ME AN OFFER!!!!??? FOR THE FAMELE AND THE FEMALE.
Brilliant.
Yes.. we have no bananas today!
Check me out, I’m in the non-lotus box!
If I still blogged, this would be an excellent way to beef up traffic….
Congratulations! It’s a sign that a good weekend approaches.
The reason the rooster doesn’t make any noise is probably due to his age. They usually start crowing at about 4 months.
Here ya goo bb, you dropped these…
[corey] [/corey]
I once had three roosters. Our neighbors hated us once they hit that magical age. Mom made me get rid of the loudest of the three and then one of the other two stopped crowing because the other would bully him.
Then some kind of local wildlife got into the coop and ate them.
*sniff* I love a happy ending.
Moira and christina, OOWWW! 8) Oh, it hurts to laugh.
Sorry Sparky, I refuse to buy any bananas older than my Crisco collection.
The randomness of the punctuation in the last line of the 2nd ad makes it read kinda like Beat poetry to me. ::snaps::
I wonder if that free old Viking stove in the field is still available from a year or so ago. I could use it to make me some free range chickens.
You mean this lovely specimen?
What a lovely trip down memory lane….sigh…I miss isaac and Steve-O…
Ditto.
Ditto the ditto
Damn, I forgot that piece o’ crap was $775. And that was then. It’s even more vintage now!
No way I’m going for $805 range chickens.
Geez, I am my own worst enemy. Every time I laugh, I get a coughing fit and my back hurts, so what do I do? Go read funny names for groups of things, and come to Isaac’s Disney Gospel comment. Ow! Ouch, ow!
Windy, my dear, are you still sick? I’m worried about you. Are you under the care of a health care professional? I would make you chicken soup but… hey! Some chickens for sale!
Ouch, Tanker! LOL Yes, I went to the doctor yesterday and got Aunty Biotics and a note saying I can’t go back to work until Monday. And instructions to drink liquids, including Gatorade, and take ibuprofen and cough syrup to relieve the symptoms. So I’m good, as long as I don’t laugh too much. PS a friend made me a large batch of chicken soup before she even knew I would be this sick, so I’m covered there as well. So appreciate the thought!
I am sad to say, I really feel for Spark #2’s wife. Every time we go to the grocery store my husband picks up 3 to 4 bananas. Every time I ask him, “Are you going to eat these?” Every week I throw away at least two rotten bananas.
Knowing my husband’s sense of humor, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that he wrote the ad with the intent of having me find it via this site.
You can freeze over-ripe bananas whole, just put them in a plastic bag or wrap them in plastic wrap. When you need a banana, like for making banana bread, just thaw, cut the tip off, and squeeze the banana out like it’s a tube of toothpaste.
Ummm…/corey, I guess. That probably counts as a corey.
We often have free (for us employees) bananas in the breakroom. Sometimes it’s just a few bunches, othertimes it’s a couple of boxes. The last time that we had four full boxes of bananas, one of coirkers took an entire box home, froze them, and used them for milkshakes for a month. `
So you work at Chiquita?
Bombdude, no, just no
Just a note that frozen bananas are a bitch to peel. So if using them for smoothies, peel before freezing. [/found out the painfully cold way corey]
You can also freeze over ripe bananas and just leave them in the freezer for approximately 6 years. Just ask Mr. Tank.
Mr. Tank and Mr. Monkey may have been separated at birth. When I moved in, I removed a can of orange juice from the freezer that was 5 years past expiration. The best part about that was, he had moved at least three time, taking that can of juice with him. This, from a man that makes at least 5 trips to the dump and Goodwill every year because he hates clutter.
My husband does not limit himself to just bananas. Oranges and anything in the peach-like family have a good chance of coming home with him to die in our fridge.
We need to start a support group. Or maybe a cooking club.
I will tell you that I have been trained right!
I only put ice cream and vodka in the freezer (well, and ice packs, but they’re not food). In the fridge, if I spot something that I don’t recognize, and, upon further inspection, it’s more than 7 days old, it goes in the garbage dispozall…
It only took me two wives and numerous girlfriends…
Were they *your* wives and girlfriends?
Who cares?!?!?
As long as I’m all trained up for the next one….
Perhaps this explains an excess familiarity with alternate personna and alligator-infested bayouxes . . .
Life Imitates YSaC: Today when Mike went out to feed the cockatiels, he discovered one nest box with four eggs in it. He discovered this because the male cockatiel, and presumed father, attacked him viciously, defending the nest. In fact, the bird was defending it so well, we have no idea who da mama could be. Pretty sure he didn’t do the eggs himself, without a hen to help him. But he sure seems to think they belong to only him. 8)
I bet the egg-mama ran off with a smooth-talking macaw, leaving him a single parent.
Animal Planet is probably already negoiating for the rights to his story so they can develop a sitcom.
Suggestions for a title, anyone?
Chicken Dun Run?
Teen Cockatiel?
Egg Drop Dad?
Full Nest?
If he hooks up with a hot canary who has kids of her own, they could call it The Birdy Bunch.
They Flew The Coop
Starring Steven Seagull!!
Raising Amazonia?
I’m not so sure we’ out of luck on the automatic icemaker upgrade. If they don’t make noice, that might mean they do make some ice. Right? Anybody?
Right then. Back to googling Reina’s cricketers.
Maybe they are really penguins.
OT, I love my boss, he fired my co-irker, who is a real live (not Zomb) practical genius* and he expects me to take over all his work and do all mine too.**
*Someone that can actually apply what they know and get work done.
**Without getting paid more or working overtime, co-irker made lots more then I do…
So if anyone needs a slightly used network guru, I’m looking for a new job! (I have some mad tractor beam skillz too)
Sorry to hear it, Hammy. For what it’s worth, we love ya here in the Snark Lounge. You can come be our network guru, and use the tractor beam to rearrange the furniture. How’re your drink-mixing skillz? The pay sucks, but it’s all the belly rubs you can stand.
And then some.
Hammy, location? I have some pull here in RTP, for network/security…
Seattle area. Is RTP near BVN?
🙂
Tricky part is the relocating far, far, far away.
Just got a lead tonight where my resume will be dropped with a Prior-Service-friendly outfit that needs IT people with a certain amount of practical genius. They even pay pretty decent, being in the oil & gas biz.
Of all the times to not haf pushed tightwad accountants to pay those Novell and MS initials to stick after my name . . .
OT: Okay, fellow music people. What the hell kind of note looks like a half note connected to another half note by two beams (like sixteenth notes)? Oh, and it seems to have the length of a quarter note (time signature is 2/4, if that matters). It’s in my choir music…in the piano part, at least, so I don’t *really* have to worry about it, but I’m curious. Uncle Google was no help, he just gave me pages explaining basic music notation.
**blinks**
Say whaaaaaat?
I was reading some scattered posts of the ones I missed and saw the start of a discussion on edible flowers. Now, I’m partial to nasturtiums, myself, but I had to share this recipe with you from one of my favorite crafty sites that I’ve never made anything from.
And I was thrilled to find a local high-end tea store that has bins of dried edible flowers of all sorts. I brought home an ounce of hibiscus blossoms to play with.
Well, time to wrap up this fowl day. Reina, Punchity Punch Punch! You so deserve this.
G’Night, Free Rangers!
Not even going to bother with reloading every minute to see if the new post comes up, since I really need to get back into the schedule of already getting lab work going by 9am. ::sigh:: I’ll see everyone at lunch, or later.
Hmmm. I sense a disturbance in the force. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz