Now, as iterated on The Facebook, further Creative Writings are afoot.
Or afeet, if I cans expand it into several short tales of preposterity.
Chicken aFeet, at that! Or a feat of chickens. Or something.
Anyhoo, the concept arose when an author asked for what events could happen in a book. And if he don't pick mine, then I shall elaborate on The Titanic.
Not literally on the Titanic. The Xym will not dive into the depths, clamber out of a diving Bell clad in brasserific helmeture, and then perform elaboracies upon the crusty deck of the rusty wreck. No - it would be an elaborance upon the sinking of the Titanic involving these renegade roosters.
Anycoo, whilst divulging the salient points of these capon capers to the comic scribe, I hit a snag with the facebook comments.
The facebook does not like cock.
In order to make a specific difference in the drillbeaks of chickens, I had to reference them by sex. Girl-Chickens - no problem calling them Hens. Hens are fine. But, call a man-chicken a cock, and Facebook has a hissy fit and removes the offending word from the comment!
Making you look like a total arse when someone tries to read your comment, and it makes no sense coz a cock is missing.
What get's me, is that I can't say cock in an avian sense, but I can say than space monster colonization is COLONization, ie take over the world via colon, or rectal, probeage. Not to mention humourescently calling The Facebook The FaceBukkake.
But it seems the naming of male chickens is more offensive than having alien probes thrust up your bum, or covering your social networking site in jizz.
That said... perhaps it was one of them Omens running an automation now, when that there writing's on the wall. A pre-cursor of warning to prohibit profanities in all-you-can-eat chineses down Riverside (motherfecker).
For The Xym got feckin' told off by some feckin' eavesdropping harridan for feckin' saying "feck".
Told off by a harpy, whilst the miserable old trout's neanderthal thug is abusing and threatening his offspring and reducing them to tears at table.
To be fair, he was missing the kickyball event down Carrow Road, and had clearly been nagged into going to a 'family buffet' instead. Hence the insidious whispery threats at the children.
And whilst discussing gobshites and various other tosspieces, whilst discussing an ungrateful hag's response, The Xym blurted out "Well. I'd tell her to feck orf, the miserable old troll". And that got the earwigging trollop all riled, and she gave me a slight telling off of: "Do you mind keeping your language down?"
So I said "Shut yer face, and keep yer great fat beak out of other peoples conversations, yer haggard old trout!". At which, her cavebloke arose from the table...
...uh-oh! Looks like Xym's finally gonna get that now legendary punch in the face. And not from a jealous husband/ boyfiend/ sapphic girlfriend who takes exception at Xym perving at their Pretty.
...phew! Her tame ape is off to get some ice-cream, the great wuss! Yeah, you get your ice-cream, and threaten your kids in public. Don't stand up for your prudish crone offended by profanity in public places.
The Xym must really learn to keep his cakehole shut...
...except when showering sexy sirens with compliments (away from the presence of knuckle-dragging, green-eyed gorillas who take exception to any man ogling their bird, as they want their woman to feel downtrodden and unappreciated and ugly and to get the tea on the table or get a beating).
And I only need to find that one sexy siren who takes exception to my finger wraggling lecheries, to be given a girly slap (not punch) in the face. For that would make me a slappee, and the Pretty a slapper. And if my Pretty is a slapper, then even The Xym should be in with a chance!
Or, more accurately, not.
¹ THE FEATHERED FOULS PREFFERED SENSE OF DRESS WHEN AT THEIR RACIST KFC RALLIES. MORE OF THAT TO COME IN A SHORT TALE OF PREPOSTEROUSNESS AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE. MAYBE.
