My husband got us some turkeys, and I really tried to love them as one should love all god's creatures, but I couldn't. The females are okay, it's the toms that I couldn't stand. Horrible horrible creatures. The Bully Boys, we called them. Chased us all over the damned place. Couldn't go outside without a great big stick. When we killed them, my daughters used their heads for puppets. I'm not fond of fowl of any variety, actually. Filthy filthy creatures. Horrible. Always shitting, constantly shitting, foul liquid streams of putrid greenish goo, everywhere. Hate birds. Hate 'em. Um, but back to cakes. But before we go back to cakes, there's the joke about the farm boy who dropped his gum in the chicken yard - got it wrong five times, but finally found it again.
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