The Chicken vs. The Repeller
I’ve never met a chicken that I didn’t like — especially considering how often their motives are questioned when they want to cross roads (I wish this was my joke but I stole it from an internet meme). Yesterday, I met a new one and now I know that he is my favorite one. In spite of it having been born on photoshop as opposed to a farm, I’m actually quite pleased. Namely because it can’t be killed for consumption! Yay! Also, though, because it can be manipulated to emulate all of the stupid stuff that I have done through the ages. (The ages meaning during my still-in-motion tenure as an Instagram participant.)
Confused? Let me show you what I mean.
Yesterday, I came upon a Spanish blog called Elga F. Lamas & My Imaginary Friends and while I can’t understand very much else, the photos speak far louder than any prose could. From what I understand, this chicken is taking gesticular (that should be a word) and style cues from me.
Though he’s not in Pilotto, he’s posing for a selfie a la moi.
Evidently, after he’d gotten some of the posing down pat, he was given the opportunity to share my proclivity for hairy footwear. And doesn’t he look great with his left leg in urine-position?
Clearly, I spoke too soon because in both Isabel Marant multi-color sneakers and a PS1, he gives me a violent run for my money.
So much so, that then I look like this.