When Bad Things Happen To Good Chicken

So we found out that Chick-Fil-A donates their money to fund anti-gay groups looking to ban same sex marriage and we’re boycotting them. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Their peach milkshake is back and it’s only available—like life itself—for a limited time. I love that milkshake but I will give it up along with the waffle fries and the chicken sandwich for my brethren in the gay community.

Perhaps Chick-Fil-A should pay less attention to gays wanting to get married and more attention to their cow mascots. They can’t even spell the word “chicken” correctly and they draw some of the letters on their signs backwards. Maybe Chick-Fil-A should forget gay marriage and start donating their money to fund education. Or at the very least, have those cows checked out by a doctor. They may have a learning disability.

To compensate for the boycott, many people are trying to find copycat recipes so they can make their own version of Chick-Fil-A’s famous chicken sandwich but, let’s face it, that never works. I got a copycat recipe for the Cap’n Crunch chicken tenders they serve at Planet Hollywood and it just didn’t taste the same. I even put some of my clothes on mannequins to pretend I was surrounded by movie memorabilia. Slightly soiled tighty whities worn by Tom Cruise in Risky Business. Alas, it didn’t help.

As someone who is a culinary connoisseur (that sounds classier than saying someone who likes to eat), it bums me out when I have to boycott food I enjoy. Why couldn’t it have been something I hate? Why couldn’t it have been the Gap? I loathe the Gap. My girlfriend in college loved their clothes and always forced me to go with her when she would shop there. She always wore the same ensemble but changed it up for the seasons. In the summer, it was a white shirt with a light sweatshirt over it. In the winter, a white shirt with a sweater. A woman who dresses in layers is the bane of a horny young man’s existence. You always lose precious minutes having to remove those extra clothes. Dammit, woman, it’s 95 degrees outside. Would it kill you to wear a tank top every once in a while? To this day, if I even walk by a Gap I go into anaphylactic shock.

Since I’m willing to give up Chick-Fil-A, I hope if any institution popular with the gay community discriminates against the heterosexuals that they will return the favor. Should Disney ever decide straighties can’t ride Space Mountain, my gay friends damn well better never set foot in their theme parks again. Or if Lady Gaga refuses to hire a butcher to design her next meat dress who wasn’t born that way then I better see her record sales plummet. After all, fair is fair.

Though I do have to warn the gay community if In-N-Out Burger should ever do anything that offends them, all bets are off. I couldn’t boycott In-N-Out if they were water boarding kittens. To paraphrase the immortal line from Braveheart: They may take my life but they will never take my Double-Double.

 

 

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8 thoughts on “When Bad Things Happen To Good Chicken”

  1. Wasn’t one of the benefits of being gay was that you never reached that awkward point in the relationship when everyone was asking when you were buying a ring or getting married? Why mess that up?

  2. I don’t believe mayors should be saying that Chick-Fil-A can’t build a restaurant in their cities, but I certainly support the power of a boycott to call attention to disagreement with Cathay’s views on marriage. And it’s amazing how much chicken is in the modern elephant!

  3. Well said! And I’m glad the “Mysteriously Your Marriage Affects My Marriage” crew all lined up like good obedient fools on August 1 to show up and give face to the most devout haters in the nation, while they stood in line to get their chik n’ hate sandwiches, so I can easily identify them in the future as NON-FRIENDS.

    It’s very much like when the most radical of republicans around here posted their “Yea Santorum” lawn signs – it’s like an ID badge of who I will not become friends with. Ever.

    1. Jesus never preached hatred, and the only people he had really sharp words for were the religious hypocrites. In other words, if you are a Christian you are required NOT to be a hypocritical, homophobic jackass. Period.

      Don’t get me started.

  4. You chose just the right words to say this, and you are funny. Preach it, Brother Mario!

    And look at it this way: you have not lost a peach milkshake. You have gained the opportunity to make an even better peach milkshake, just for you.

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