Birdbrains by Thom Bluemel for January 21, 2025

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    CorkLock  about 7 hours ago

    I smell fry chicken.

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    Zykoic  about 5 hours ago

    Usually just the roosters battle.

    My Grandma kept chickens for food. When she passed away my Uncle moved into the old house. He was very affected by WW2 combat. He became an alcoholic and lived alone. He got by on a pension and veterans benefits. I visited him one summer at the Grandma’s old house. As we sat in the kitchen I heard chickens. “Uncle! Are you raising chickens?” He chuckled and replied, “Those a fighting roosters.” We stepped outside and there were several cages each with one bird. I told him that it is illegal to have fighting roosters and he could get into trouble. My Uncle pointed to one of the cages, “That one is the Mayor’s rooster.” Then another, “That one belongs to the chief of police.” RIP Sam.

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    Jml58  about 2 hours ago

    He got henpecked.

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