Today I have the pleasure of providing some meaty content on my friend Joe’s blog, Suburbanwino.com. It’s a post that combines my love for typos, cutting shit up, mangled quotations of Henry David Thoreau, and of course, the Mâcconais. Maybe it’s about a chicken, too. What else could you want? Here’s a teaser:

Chicken in front of FireChickens are this: members of petting zoos, and historical attractions. I believe people used to keep chickens as pets before dogs and cats were domesticated. This tradition is still kept alive in Ethiopia where a dinner quest is twice as likely to meet a chicken roosting above his or her head before he’d find anything that most Westerners would consider edible (although I assure you the wot is good.)

Generally, most Westerners also have a similarly primitive idea of what a chicken is. Pinkish cuts of various geometrical shapes that come shrink wrapped and arrayed in yellow styrofoam trays at the supermarket is the generally accepted theory. So it was with this general perception of the most common fowl on the planet that sent me to the kitchen, knife in hand, prepared to live as deliberately as modern life would allow. (Read more)

So head o’er to Suburbanwino.com to read the rest of the post, and leave some hate mail for yours truly.