Thursday, May 22, 2008

In case I chicken out.

I'm eating some leftover chicken I'm not sure about. I can't remember when I cooked it. At least a week ago, maybe longer.

It didn't smell funny, and it doesn't taste funny, so it's probably ok, right?

Right?

Probably?

At least if I die from eating rancid chicken I won't have to go out to the Inlaws on Saturday. R should probably count on dragging my corpse out there anyway, though. Wouldn't want FIL to think I was elaborately faking my own death. If only he knew how many times it's actually occurred to me. If I could come up with something I thought might possibly work, I'd have done it already.


Anyway, just in case this is my last post, I love you all, and thanks for the mammaries. :)


- PK

6 comments:

That's a 7-letter Deborah, never a Deb said...

Glad you didn't keel over--it was nice to meet you today!

Carol said...

Well, if you don't die, here's a thought. Say you can't go because you have a rash or something. it doesn't matter if it's true, he won't believe you anyway. And who cares? He's a jerk anyway....

Batty said...

If it had been sitting there uncooked, I'd be more concerned. Spoiled cooked chicken from the fridge isn't as likely to result in anything worse than Projectile Poop.

Poops said...

I'm thinking of changing my name to "projectile poops" now...

What would happen if you told FIL point blank that you weren't going because you're tired of being abused by him? Would his head explode?

I hope you survive the chicken. *poops crosses fingers and freshens the supply of toilet paper*

Evil Baritone said...

Wuz it free range chicken? I hear free range is rancid-proof. :-)

Linnea said...

I am officially de-lurking to tell you that I love you (in a non-creepy, non-stalky, knitblogger kind of way) and that you must not die.

There.

I'm going to go blush and hide somewhere now.