Alright, I am back to nothingness. I am sitting in the middle of oblivion. I have front row seats to a blank screen and I'm clawing at the armrests to get out of this joint. That's right. I am back in B.F.E.Ville.
There is NOTHING to do here! Nothing at all. And yet, people love it here. Let me tell you what conversations I have been exposed to in the last 78 minutes and counting.
I must be curteous and respectful to the people that I come in contact with in places such as this. However, when the mix of their dialogue includes discussion about the diagramming of a chicken hotel, it is then when I want to hold my breath until blackouts occur.
Thing 1: "Well, ya see, I been runnin' a chick'n hotel for upward uh 10 years now. It's been a fine run for me.
Thing 2: "Yeah, you should see the layout of the hotel that they live in. It's got to be somethin' like 50 square feet. It's HUGE!"
Thing 1: "I have over 30 chickens, and I named em all. I even have a differ'nt whistle for each of em."
Thing 2: "And like, there's a nice roof and place where the chickens check in. It's so extravagant. Like, there's even a place for them to check in and everything!"
Thing 1: "Sometimes, I lay in bed at night, and I do a certain whistle, and that chicken will come and lay with me in my bed. It don't get any better.
Thing 2: "You can get like, 8 eggs a day per chicken. I mean, think of the money you can make with organic chicken eggs."
Thing 3 (me): "I'm sorry, I've been holding my breath in hopes of a blackout. Say again?"
Why I listen to possible pyramid schemes with egg marketing and chicken hotel schematics is beyond me. It is conversations like this that make me never want to live in B.F.E.
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Location:Somewhere I'm not proud of...