The Chicken Feed

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If there’s one thing that can be said about The Rubber Chicken, then I guess logically this sentence is it.
Luckily, that’s not the case. In fact, the things that can be said about this uproarious, delightful little cyber-corner of information-super-whimsy are probably as numerous (if not more-so) as the site’s oddly diverse readership. And I do use the word “oddly” with calculated discretion, because despite the fact that we make jokes all the time about how we have no readers, the fact is that we do have them. We have quite an inventory, honestly.

This is due to the fact that TRC is unusually well-Googled. People type things into search-engines, scan down the list of results and routinely choose our site as the solution to whatever quandary it is that’s driven them to type key-words into a text-box.

Driven by curiosity, boredom and hubris, I decided this month to take a peek at the man behind the curtain (this is a Wizard of Oz metaphor, not me walking in on a guy showering), and leaf through our visitation statistics for April 2007. Herein, I came upon the full list of keywords typed into search-engines like Google that then resulted in people clicking on us.

Below are some of the highlights, and boy do they present a nightmarish cross-section of the kind of people YOU apparently are. Bear in mind, you filthy cadre of rat-like degenerates, that I am not making up these search results for a laugh. This is honestly what you people are looking for when you end up finding us. May God have mercy on you.

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You may have noticed that Something Awf The Rubber Chicken’s poll has been closed down for nearly eight billion years, displaying the mysterious message “closed while we search for a poll service that hasn’t whored itself to pop-up adver-

Okay, the message is way too long, and is a lie anyway so I’m not going to bother trying to remember the rest of it. Instead, here’s the dirty and somewhat obvious truth: nobody’s been searching for anything. In fact, the “administration” here (hahahahahahahahahahaha) has gladly forgotten all about its extinct poll the same way they cried their crocodile tears about September 11th, and then partnered with Halliburton during the privatization of Iraq. You’re probably wondering where Chad is. Well, he’s in an oil derrick outside Fellujah (Microsoft Word Dictionary: “Elijah?”).

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Stream of Consciousness

Posted on February 8th, 2005 by Andrey Summers

The story I’m trying to tell you if you’d just shut up and listen to me happened when I was riding my chopper down the I5 and got flagged over by a filthy degenerate who needed help jump-starting his junked out crack-van. I told him buddy, listen, this is a god-damned motorbike, but he said all he really needed to get on the road was some hot, casual intercourse. I said hell no, I’m not some kind of queer, so not until I see a passport, birth certificate or other form of legit identification. He, of course, was unable to produce such a document, so again I was left a virgin, weeping to myself on the roadside. How long, I wondered, until I would finally cast away these bitter shackles, forget these dark blizzards that struck every night of my hated innocence?

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I’m So Sick: Adventures in Delirium

Posted on October 31st, 2003 by Chad McCanna

I’m not sure if any of you have ever been sick, but when you are like I am right now, oftentimes you will become mentally handicapped, and it’s one of the most terrifying experiences you can ever have. I went to sleep last night around 9:30 PM, seven hours earlier than usual. I had been dreaming of Pee Wee Herman’s playhouse, but it kept getting hotter and hotter. Eventually, Cowboy Curtis caught on fire, and Chairy caught on fire, and that genis head in the box caught on fire and Pee Wee started running around and I started screaming. I sat down in Chairy, but she was on fire, and I caught on fire too.

I awoke with a start, sweating, terrified, and six feet off the ground. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, left foot, and head. Something was definitely not good, and I was going to get to th— Six feet off the ground? What?!? I looked down, flopped around in sheer panic, and eventually came to the conclusion that I was in the top bunk bed, the same place I’ve been sleeping the last three months. My roommate was noisily watching TV, and I stared at the side of his head intently for about thirty seconds. He thought he was so great. I could watch TV too, but I decided against it because, after all, I was very high off the ground.

“Alchemy is… do you want gold?” I asked.
“I can make you gold out of lead, because I am an alchemist. If you want gold out of straw or water I can make straw gold and water gold.”

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Visual treats from The Rubber Chicken’s ill-advised fake site replacement for April Fools’ Day 2002.
Thanks to all who contributed.  You know who you are.


“this is my best drawing ever! I made it of Joanna, from PErfect Dark, the greatest game ever from rare. this is the first time I’ve drawn her with clothes, tho.”
- jim treevault.

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