I Should’ve Never Crossed That Road
It seems so long ago, the day I made the fateful mistake of crossing that road. One casual stroll across an interstate and suddenly I’m in every joke book in America. Who saw THAT coming? Had I known I would have stayed home. I was worried about getting hit by a car. Instead I got hit by fame.
I hate all the attention. Hate it, hate it, hate it. A lot of animals do what I did - deer, ducks, rodents… they all cross roads every day. Nobody says a thing. But a chicken does it and suddenly it’s newsworthy? Suddenly I’m the new Rosa Parks?
You wanna know the ironic part? The other side of the road isn’t any different! My privacy is thrown out the window, probably forever, and I didn’t even get a good story out of it. The whole thing sucks.
Why did I cross the road? I ask myself that every day.
Comments (6)
At least you get to cross roads when you want. I have to wait for a flood.
Same thing happened to my friend. He’s a horse and he made the mistake of walking into a bar. Bartender says, why the long face. Ha, it’s still funny.
To get to the other side. What did I miss?
Listen, Rondell-Spongergate, the reason you are so twiddled about crossing the road is that your name is too long and not feminine enough. If you had a short name like “Rondy”, or “Ronelle”, humans would naturally take less notice of you, and you would no longer be the epicenter of attention. I crossed the road once, got scared out of my wits, and now I stay inside. Best policy, avoid notice. Change your name.
Priest walks into a bar holding a chicken.... bartender says.... bartender says....
Oh, never mind.... nothing funny about a priest walking into a bar holding a chicken.
Okay, now I have one.....
Priest walks into a bar holding a chicken.... bartender says “Hey Father, do chicken’s really have fingers?”
... Nope, I was right the first time… nothing funny about a priest walking into a bar holding a chicken....