the chicken that got away – part three.

Yo yo! It’s that time of the week, yet again. Ja’Crispy’s here.

Happy Margarita Day y’all. I am on my third one now and I kind of forgot that Gertrude is not here. Well, not hearing her cackle around is pretty obvious to note but she always had a quiet touch to herself. She never said much (probably the cat got her tongue), she never moved much (well, chickens can’t fly, duh), she never asked for much, either, just an occasional feather rubbing.

Still don’t have a f*cking clue on how I am going to find my one thousand beef bones for Gertrude’s ransom. This Saturday, on our way to having brunch, an adorable lady approached me and my human. She said that she worked in the film industry and that ever in the case she needs a dog she will give us a call. I wasn’t surprised. With these looks, come on. Still wondering how this didn’t happen sooner. I played hard to get but as soon as she calls I’m outta here. See ya humans. But, in the meantime, need to resort to these guys to help me find Gertrude.

Already asked for their help but they played low and seemed not really that interested. “There are plenty more chicken out there, sleepy head”. Yeah, they call me sleepy head. Me, the sleepy head. Come on, the crazy human sleeps like her life depended on it, always snoring and drooling like a bulldog. Disgusting to wake up to that view. I feel ya, bro. And they are watching too much TV. “Plenty more fish, dot com” just sticks to your mind every time. I love TV commercials from these guys. The English kill it every time. come on, who does not love ??

I need to come up with a plan, soon. I am just going to pour another jalapeño and grapefruit margarita (my hemorrhoids will kill me tomorrow). The kidnappers didn’t say where they were. They just said to tell them as soon as I have the one thousand beef bones. I need to start somewhere. Someone told me Argentina is a good place to go (my Brazilian friends would kill me). Or Brazil. Yes, Brazil! They speak Portuguese so I’m good there. “Cerveja, dama bonita” that’s all I need to know (for you dumb asses it’s beer and pretty lady in Portuguese). The crazy humans went to Natal in Northern Brazil a couple of years ago. That’s where I’ll start. Heard the dunes are pretty sick to ride on. Need to prepare my ass for them. Hum, need to buy sun cream (hate that sticky stuff; definitely better than that repellent stuff I had to put on when on my Zambia safari) and some speedos (yes, this junk looks good in speedos; my balls just got bigger so I need new ones).

Brazil, here I come.

Oh, crazy humans, just a quick question. How do I get to Brazil? No more BA miles left for me. Forgot about that. Maybe that teleporting thing from the Citymapper app works (Sadiq, you rock)?! Over and out.

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