My dear friends…I am sorry to say this, but I fear deeply that my parents (preferably my mom) have been brain washed by a kid hating, dish washing cult! No, not really….but I like to have a dramatic entrance. But, you never know…I mean just a few minutes ago my mom asked me to do the dishes. Well, that is kind of normal, but come to think of it, if she was brainwashed when I was two years old , ever sense I was old enough to remember, she has wanted me to do this…thus it became a normal fact of life. I Know, I know, I sound like some lunatic…but really, my mind is just fine.(i hope) So, I now, I will entertain you further by informing you of our…..(um…what?….c’mon….think of somthin already…)Oh! I know…our trip to the library! “Are you sure?….I mean I dont mean to sound rude or anything….but do you REALLY want to bore your readers to death….?” Uh…right…thank you W.W.W.C..I wouldnt want to do that…ok, so I guess I should tell you about my….uh pet history? No? Ok…Whatever. Be that way. Whats that? Oh. You wanna hear about how we have had chickens in a bin in our KITCHEN for the past few weeks? ok. Whatever makes the readers happy. So, let me explain it from the beginning. Mom and Dad got tired of buying eggs, considering how if you wanted them organic, they cost like $4.97 ( i think 0_o ) and thats at costco…where prices are good. So, we end up buying non-organic eggs. (are you with me so far? Yes? Great.) One day mom says she wished we had a lot of land so we could have chickens, cows, and goats. (personally, I could do without ANY of them….but it was not my choice.) so dad, said “why dont we build a chicken coop and get some chickens? We have a back yard!” so off to the feed store we go….the hot stinky dry loud crowded feedstore. With lots of chickens. lots.scads’ of em’… all jammed in a tiny cage. they were loud too. not exactly the “silent sammy” type. They were all having their own conversation in “chicken-ise”…..all at once. It was enough to drive anyone crazy. especially ME. But of course, where there is a feed store….there are people….and I wasn’t about to hunch down in front of that chicken cage, peek my nose in and yell “could ya’ll give us a little peace and quiet? Is that possible?” In front of everyone. No siriee bob. Uh-uh. nope. so, instead I gave them a piercing glare…enought to make anyone quiet. Well…..not really. Actuly what I really did was stick my finger in the cage and say…”hey lil’ guys!” but i was noticing how loud they were. But I was NOT QUITE shooting swords and daggers at them out of my eyes. Not quite, but almost. We got four of them. Four lil chicks….two black and two golden and red. Alora names hers juliet. Annelise named hers midnight (it was black) Amber named hers moonlight (also black) I named mine Yumyum( A.K.A. Dee or deedee or delicious.) So, we are in the car…the hot car. With four chickens. Of course, amber had hers nestled up under her chin, holding it against her shirt. I was sure to warn her that these chickens, however cute they may be, they were NOT potty-trained. Of course, she continued to hold him…untill the little rascal decided to let loose and….well…”relive itself” on her WHITE shirt. yup. You shoulda seen the look on her face. Faster than you can say “bad chicken” that lil’ critter was back in it’s box. She was done with it. So, we got home, found a bin, and set the chickens in it. In our kitchen. Mom was NOT pleased. at all. So, for the past few weeks the chickens have been staying outside, in a bin in the kitchen, or in the garage ( and yes. Of COURSE they were in a bin. ) all except mine…she died. I came home from staying at grandmas…only to find out my chicken had died. I began to wonder what they had for dinner while I was gone. I mean, with the economy and all….well, you hear about people in china eating their dogs…so I began to wonder exactly WHAT they had for dinner. I asked them if they had anything like…..say….Chicken nuggets. “no, replied my dad….no chicken nuggets….just A chicken NUGGET.” Ho ho ho. Do not fear my friends….no need to call the humane society, or animal abuse breu….or whatever. the chicken died of natural causes. NOT a frying pan. Poor thing sat in its water too long and got too cold. ( Like, how DUMB. You get cold, you move out of the water…don’t just flop over and DIE!!! I mean c’mon? Whuts up with that??!)oh well. so now the chickens are getting bigger, and occasionally flying out of their bin. The dog just adores them….or rather adores chasing them…and they are FAST! It’s really funny.Maybe we will get a cow soon….or a goat. I could really go for warm milk every day…mmmm. Ok, so no more about pets….lets talk animals….or rather ….sharks. More exiting right? yup. Weve got bigger fish to fry, than just talking about regular run-of-the-mill pets. Hopefully, tonight at two AM-ish, my dad will come back, with his friend bill…..and a SHARK! YUMM! Last time they went shark fishing, my mom went too. Big shock. MY MOM. Yup. you read that right…MY MOM. Imagine my mom, in a long jean skirt, holding a fishing pole….at midnight…in the dark, with daddy on one side of her, and a deck hand (or whatever you wanna call him) on the other.She is thinking that this is soooo boring, and nothing will ever happen when she gets a bite! It’s a Fish! It’s a Monster! It’s a ….A…SHARK???!! He jumps up in the air, almost touching her nose, his face twisted in pain and rage.He gnashes his teeth together, and lunges at her…..she is yelling to daddy to help her pull it in…but no such luck. He is inside. She begins to yell to the man next to her…asking him for help to reel it in…but he can’t. The huge shark thrusts its cumbersome body into the deep inky waters below, and they swallow him up. The dark…..INKY waters below? Huh? Yes. Dark. Inky. Waters. Below. But WHY??!! This is why….Squid. So many squid its amazing. the air is thick with the horrible smell of rotting fish. The water around the boat is completely surrounded….everywhere the water ripples with life….squid life. People are reeling up squid left and right. The squid are changing colors,and squirting ink and water. her is how it worked…somone would pull one up, a deck hand would slit its throat, and fling it to the next man who would proceed to stomp on its head untill it came off. then it got tossed in a pile. Can you belive my MOM was there? The same lady who dislikes the sight of blood? Yup. She was there. She was also soaking wet, due to the fact that squids have a tendency to squirt water at people. So, that is where my dad is tonight. He asked me if I wanted to go….but i’m sure you know what my answer was. I told him that it sounds like fun, but really isn’t my type of thing. Plus, i wasnt exactly sure I was ready to witness an animal being killed by having its head stomped off. I like calamari…but after seeing that I might not anymore. So, why ruin a good thing?I would be miserable as a vegitarian…so lets not even risk it. ok, my mom wants me…so Im off!