Actual text conversation between me n’ Jeff while I was on my business trip (names have been changed, including the chicken's):
Me: BTW, apparently Jim and his wife keep chickens now…and they had one that got an egg stuck and might die and needs prayers. Not making that shit up. The things people put on Facebook!
Jeff: Wow.
Me: Yep. People are effin’ weird
Jeff: Totally messed up. How can you even type “Pray for my chicken?”
Me: Try “Pray for my chicken’s prolapsed vagina.”
Jeff: They wrote “Chicken vagina” on their Facebook page?
Me: Not exactly…I think they called it a “vent.”
Me (a second later): Oh, sweet Jesus! Do NOT Google “prolapsed chicken vent.”
Jeff: Noted.
Me (A bit later): Hey…they’re trying to decide whether it would be better to break the egg or soak the chicken in warm water and apple cider and then apply honey. Are they marinating this chicken already?
Jeff: Have you taken your Ambien?
Me: Maybe
Jeff: Get off Facebook before you get yourself in trouble and go to bed.
Me: The chicken’s name is Strawberry
Jeff: Bed!
Me: Fine.
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