The Chicken Feed

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Undead Studies 307 (Lectures 1-3)

Posted on April 15th, 2008 by Michael Cope

Andrey: Another page turns in the great, dusty book of history on whose every page the genesis of is scrawled in blotchy, barely-legible chicken-scratch. And as surely as the next two paragraphs are going to be about me trying to subtly underline and milk the relatively mild pun I just made (CHICKEN scratch, am I right?), so do the machinations of the time-barons also decree that this new ninth year of written articles on TRC will kick off with a Completely New Face.

It is my utmost pleasure at this juncture to conclude my update text by introducing you to the lovely, dynamic, and ridiculously well-dressed Michael Cope, who has broken bread at our table before podcast-wise, and now makes the grim transition to written articles with a meticulous, cerebral 40-pager about Leni Riefenstahl’s controversial editorial technique.

By which I mean zombies. And when I said it was my pleasure before, I meant it was my pleasure to conclude the update text, not introduce Mike. Frankly, the man is a hack.

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Andrey: Here at, we are all about the environment. By this I am, of course, suggesting only that at any given moment we are in or near the environment, but I like to think that makes us an authority on the matter. Certainly as much of an authority as an arguably un-elected Presidential Candidate who at one time had no beard, then grew a beard, and then just shaved it off again.

If Al Gore can’t even decide what his own face looks like, how can he reliably perform plastic surgery on the face of our planet? This question is implicitly asked and tacitly answered by our own Alastair Robert Craig in a feature that he did not title The Unofficial Spice Girls Reunion Scrapbook. To find out what he really titled it, you’ll just have to Admit You’re A Spice Girls Fan. Just kidding. You can also Click Here.

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Recently, my good friend Morgan with whom I attend the dubious educational conglomerate known as the University of British Columbia was denied entrance to their Film Program. I was utterly shocked by this jarring turn of events, until Morgan went and sent me the stringent requirements for admittance to this elite cadre of film-makers-in-training. I guess, despite being a brilliant film-maker himself, Morgan just isn’t cut out to be involved in the UBC program. If you’re curious as to why, or are considering applying yourself, dear reader, you need only scan down this page.

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An exclusive excerpt from the Captain Planet Annual 1993
(Printed on RECYCLED PAPER!)
Generously donated by Mister Bung

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Bung’s Guide to Public Transport

Posted on August 17th, 2004 by Mister Bung

I like to make life more exciting by exploiting the veritable wealth of hilarious situations that can take place on public transport, and now thanks to this ‘internet’ I learnt about at my last uni class, you can too!

Today’s lesson: Buses.

1) Wait for a near empty bus, preferably with only one other person riding. Get on the bus and stand at the front with a look of intense concentration on your face, as if you can’t decide where to sit. Remeber to brace yourself as the bus takes off (or not if you prefer). Take a seat next to the only other person on the bus, lean in closely and mention conspiritorally ‘He knows.’ Get off at the next stop.

2) As you get on the bus and are about to pay the fare, drop your change. Bend over to pick it up and freeze. Wait a while, then unfreeze. As you walk to your seat, freeze again. Repeat this through out the journey, especially in conversations.

3) Memorize passages from Speed.

  • ‘There’s gum on my seat…GUM!’
  • ‘Harry, there’s enough C-4 on this thing to put a hole in the world!’
  • ‘Jack, nothing tricky now. You know I’m on top of you! DO NOT attempt to grow a brain!’

Get on any bus, and make sure you sit as close to the driver as possible. The seats right behind him work well.

Start reciting the passages gradually getting louder as you get to your stop. Finish with ‘Pop quiz, hotshot. There’s a bomb on a bus. Once the bus goes 50 miles an hour, the bomb is armed. If it drops below 50, it blows up. What do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO? ‘ Run.

4) Wait at the bus stop for your bus. As the bus pulls up and opens ask the driver if this bus goes to the Coruscant . When he says no, look at him as though the bus NOT going to Coruscant is the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard. Mention you’ll wait for the next one. If the driver says that no buses go there say ‘that’s what YOU think.’

So next time you have a boring public transport journey, remeber these simple tips to spice things up.

Outraged at the sheer AUDACITY of my mockery of public transport? Why not mail me with a suitable subject line, lest ye electronic mail be deleted post haste!

Related Links:
Crap Comic: Waiting For A Bus
Why Bus Drivers Should Stop Wearing Reindeer Antlers on their Heads

The mX Magazine Letters Page

If you haven’t read Chad’s Insecks and Urachnids, a collection of honest-to-god Year 7 reports on the wonderful world of Life Science, then you’ll still have a glimmer of optimism for the next generation.  Allow me to put those hopes to rest.

The following short story was submitted by a Year 12 English student, soon to graduate unopposed into adult society.   The Rubber Chicken claims no responsibility for any attempt at storytelling beyond this point.  Fans of the English language are advised to stop reading now, as this text is 90% adverb, and it may disturb you to see something you hold so dearly hurt so badly.

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Andrey: Well, it’s finally happened. Scientists have finally proven that life does, indeed exist in my attic. This fact, however, was immediately disputed by the philosophical community who screamed at each other about relative causality for 14 hours, and then went to a coffee shop to whinge and try to pick up the same woman, who turned out to be deaf.

In other news, HappyBob and I have “come together” (not unlike the Beatles, unless you’re talking about when they split up) to bring you a Feature the likes of which will never be linked to again. Crap.

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Insecks & Urachnids

Posted on August 13th, 2003 by Chad McCanna

The following are actual papers written about insects and arachnids by a Year 7 Life Science class. They had two full class periods to work on these, and sadly, the results follow in their unabridged, pitiful reality. All the grammatical mistakes and misspellings are preserved for your enjoyment. To give you an indication of the general intelligence level of these children, the teacher told them that their titles should be catchy or creative. Well, one of these little scamps called their paper “Be Catchy or Creative!” My god.

Just a forewarning before you dive in: if you plan on reading all of these at once, please PLEASE be drunk first.

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Your guide to forging the Perfect Taco, from the most reliable of culinary authorities: a small-time comedy website.

How do you start an article that discusses the merits of washing your drains thoroughly every two years? You don’t.

Everybody knows that Tacos are the staple of everybody’s diet. Hitler ate tacos before commiting suicide. Indiana Jones is famous for his trademark “Taco Dance” remark in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Even the second richest biped in the world (the first being Scrooge McDuck), Bill Gates, is humbled by the very thought of a taco. He purchased Taco Bell on a whim! No, wait. That was a taco. He purchased a taco on a whim.

Anyway, with all this talk of tacos, I thought it was only appropriate that I show you how I make them. I mean, what’s the point of reading this site all the time if you don’t learn something, right? I’m sure there’s logic in there somewhere. Please let me know if you find it.

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The Rubber Chicken began as a Nintendo reviews page with silly animations.  Out of respect for history, we have kept some of the more readable specimens in our archive.  Enjoy!

A guest review by “Canjo B. Rarebear”.

Let’s start out this review by first stating that my review is based on a memory of playing the game for five minute one year ago in a car ride with my sister’s GBA, which was actually mine, but which she got to carry around all the time for some reason. Since my memory of the game is dubious at best, the majority of this review will focus on the letter R instead of the game.

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