Don’t envy me for being a Chick Magnet

Yeah. I’m a chick magnet. I admit it. People say, I envy you for being a chick magnet. But you shouldn’t. First of all, the whole baby chickens getting stuck on your skin thing loses its charm the first time they start pooping on you en masse. It’s like they cheep out a signal, “Everybody poop now!” And all that cheep cheep cheep, man it’ll drive you crazy.

Then if they get stuck on your eyelids, watch out. They might think your retinas are bird feed. I’ve had to spray my skin with special insulation to stop it, otherwise if I got even within ten miles of a chicken farm, zoop, they’d come at me, flying through the air… and sticking to my skin. Then it’s cheep cheep cheep cheep cheep. Prying the little bastards off.

Hiding in the bathroom. They come smacking on the windows, drawn by the magnetism.

It’s just depressing, having to clean their little bodies up.

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