I made some fried chicken yesterday. I'm not talking about the shit you get at KFC or some other fucking place. I'm talking about in the kitchen, fucking up a chicken carcass, breading the motherfucker and then pan frying the bitch. I'm talking about work. And cayenne pepper, loads of that shit. This is one of the most southern of dishes you could possibly hope to eat. Healthy? Fuck no. Lots of work? Damn straight. Delicious? Hell fuck yes.
And that's what the fuck I am talking about. As a kid I had fried chicken, as described above, probably once a week. And not just the chicken either. We had mashed potatoes, or rice, and gravy, bread of some sort, iced tea/lemonade, and some kind of vegetable. And let's not forget the dessert.
What I'm saying is that my parents worked their asses off to give me some good shit that I didn't appreciate at the time. In fact, I complained to the high heavens about having to eat chicken "again". I was a fuckhole, a total ingrate motherfucker. I was everything that was wrong with the human species and I had no problem with it.
I regret that shit, like a motherfucker. Yeah, my parents weren't perfect, they did stupid things, just like everyone else, but sometimes I wish that they were still around so that I could tell them that they were right about a lot of shit and that I'm sorry for being such a dick all the time.
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