Justin the Chicken: Bringing Sexy Back edition

Are you getting sick of my kids yet?  Man, I need some new material.  But it’s hard to appreciate cultural differences with one kid permanently plugged into my boob and the other stuck on repeat of the two-year old anthem.  Do you know the two-year old anthem?  The chorus goes:    “NO, NO, NOoooooooooo.”  “NO, NO, NOoooooo.”

Grates on you like Justin Timberlake’s falsetto.

So this is the best I can do today.  Chickens.  A three day vacation and I came back with pictures of my kids and poultry.

But before you delete me from your RSS feed forever, it’s chickens and sex.  Isn’t sex the number one internet product?  Isn’t that what sells everything from Kentucky Fried Chicken to Justin Timberlake CDs?

Here at Not So Spanish, we are bringing Not So Sexy Back, KFC style.

Look at this bad boy.  I call him Justin.  He’s feeling spicy and eyes up some tender biscuits.

“Hey girls?  How about some real dark meat?   Do you like your lovin’ with a side of slaw?”

“Wham, bam, thank you Ma’am.  Yes, sir, that’s why its called fast food.”

“Hey buddy!  This is not the drive-thru!”

I really need to get out more.



  1. No problems here, never enough chicken love in this world, but I am a little concerned about your apparent developing obsession with Justin Timberlake… although it could be worse, I’m so glad you’re not writing about Justin Bieber!

  2. Hahahaha! You love it here, if a little chicken bonking amuses you, oh boy…how about llama/alpaca sex, or some duck on duck business?

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