I love olives. Love 'em. And believe it or not, it's exactly olives i'll be talking about.
See, I have this theory about food. And maybe, now is the time to thank Ilina, a dear friend and a *fan*, who has inspired me to finally sit on my a*s and verbalise this interesting idea.
I find that, in many cases and in many ways, people's choices of food and of partners are related. I wonder, there may even be a causality factor.
When I started writing this blog, I was dating someone, and this is when the theory started forming. Now we've split up and I am in a serious relationship with someone else, with whom I may have a real future. Yet, the theory remains. In fact, i've only become more convinced.
The olive theory. There was a vague idea for a while, lingering in the corners of my mind, and it was much later that it was verbalised in the TV show How I Met Your Mother, that a successful couple- be it friends or partners, is constituted of a person who likes olives and one who doesn't stand them. The logic behind it, unsurprisingly, is that in such a pair, people compliment each other- one wants the other person's olives, and the latter is happy to have gotten rid of them. Imagine the disappointment if you both like olives but there's only one! Or having to waste an olive because no-one wants it... Such a realisation slowly formed in my head, after years of experience of going to restaurants with my family and my friends- often, they would push a lonely olive around the corners of their round plate, and I would hesitantly submit to the temptation of asking, with some definite hope in my voice, yet still attempting to play it cool: "Oh... do you not want your olive?". "Naah." "Score!", i would think.
Some foods, it is good if only one of you likes. Such are olives. Other times, it is preferable that your opinions of such foods match. Onions and garlic. And blue cheese.
The reason why it matters- olives are whole, you can separate them. The sharp taste of onion and deadly stinkyness of garlic stays with you forever, even if you only kiss someone who's had a garlic bread 2 weeks ago. However, my partner chops the onions and garlic even before he knows what he's cooking. We've decided on a compromise- I will make my fantastic 3 cheese pasta when he's not around, and he'll consume his chopped-in-small-white-pieces-of-death garlic 2 weeks before he sees me. It is an entirely different situation to the olive one, you see, but it indicates what your relationship is like, nevertheless. In this case, it is not about compatibility but about compromise. I am happy my friends and my partner are willing to compromise.
Finally, different styles of cooking tell a lot about the cook himself. My mum, she cooks rarely and usually, when she does, it is purely out of necessity for food in the house. My dad, on the other hand, when allowed in the kitchen, along with the mess, makes home-y food, food for the soul, if you will. He is a man of imagination, and can make a meal from scratch. These two different styles reflect their personalities closely, in many aspects. My mum is more organised, and my father is a more chaotic. She is an engineer, he is in radio business. Where do I stand? I am much like my dad, both in life, and in the kitchen. Our attitudes match. We are both victims of gluttony. Which clearly explains why we seem to get along better and with fewer words.
I have been in four relationships, including my present one, and three of my partners didn't like olives. You can let my Olive theory "marinate" with you, you're welcome to put it to the test, but I promise you, next time you find yourself in such a "salad" situation, you'll almost inevitably remember my article and will hopefully experience a deeply intimate moment, when you realise that you and your partner, or friend, compliment each other in more than the obvious ways. It will make you smile, and it makes me smile right now, as I type these words, to know that I may have caused it, regardless of whether it is a stranger, or a friend smiling. Let me know if and when you do. :)
Monday, 26 July 2010
Saturday, 1 May 2010
Why did the chicken cross the road? There were 10 things to be done on the other side.
Silly pountchline, but I've been tagged by beloved Lenival, to say 10 things about me, and 10 things that may be surprising about me. I am a very open person, so it's unlikely that anything will be new but the point is to have fun.
So, 10 things about me, completely spontaneous, i promise.
1. I am a dog person. Cats are ok, but I will always prefer having a dog than a cat. And, just to clarify, those little Paris Hilton things are not dogs- they are rats with expensive coats and they make for fantastic door mats.
2. I have a complete obsession with left-handedness. Lefties, as well as other conditions that result from, or are at least related to, right brain hemispehre dominance- synaesthesia, possibly homosexuality, have the power to amuse me endlessly. I am currently left-handed. And one day I will find a left-handed partner, you'll see.
3. I am probably one of the 4 people in this world who prefer margarine to butter. It's marga-licious. No matter, being misunderstood is a sign of being a genious. :) Margarine rocks, it smells amazing, it's better for your cholesterol, and you don't have to wait 20 mins to warm up to be able to spread it.
4. Hyacinth is possibly my favourite flower. And I am not much about flowers but the smell of hyacinth is intoxicating.
5. I love olives. I have a whole "olive theory"- best couples are made of one person who loves them, and one who doesn't. Hugs for my "person", who's reading this and smiling. We're golden, darlin', aren't we?! :D
6. I have a tattoo on my lower back, of a tree, the roots of which spell out "sophia". It's awesome.
7. I have a very hard time, accepting being called "girlfriend". But when I do, you know I'm yours. At least for a bit ;)
8. Surprise, surprise- I am a city girl, and I probably always will be. I like the buzz of the city, that you can get lost in it, or just take a walk, the parks, the people (when there's not too many of them), the scenes, the trees, everything.
9. I pull off all-nighters for the purpose of sheer pleasure and emotional sanity. I think it's a habit resulting from the fact that i work best under pressure, so I tend to write assignments on the night(s) before they're due.
10. Last one, I better make it good...I am really a man! Ok, probably not in the same way you're thinking. But I can't wait for the World Cup to begin, sit with a cold beer in hand and scream agains the TV. I hate shopping and dieting, i don't want to get married, i'd rather swear, pick up girls, and watch football.
And here are a few things that may surprise all 3 of you who read it:
1.I am very down-to-earth. None of that artsy-fartsy indie music and arts. Most irritating thing, and i think many would agree- pseudo-intellectuals, like Duchamp and Warhol. And feminists.
2. I like rain. Summer rain. When everyone else is running home, but i walk slowly, smelling the rain, and the little bit of dust, when I am soaking wet... i can walk for hours under the rain.
3. I am an atheist who studies theology. And media.
4. I very rarely eat fish. I spent 3 years, off fish, but recently I started eating it, even if occasionally. Because of the penguins. Watch "Happy feet" and if tell me you didn't cry, you have a heart of stone.
5. On that note, i have much more sympathy for animals, than I do for humans. Humans are mean, stupid, lying and cheating, slick, cruel, ignorant and arrogant. Then again, I am sensitive to human emotions- i locate them often in the smallest situations, and when I see genuine kindless and love, especially from a stranger, I cry.
6. No, i am not one of the crazy, green, save-the-planet people. Don't they annoy us all, by being as selfless as most of us can never be?!
7. I've never broken anything. Not a bone. Yet.
8. I hate clubbing. As in going to clubs. Clubbing people, though, makes up for a fantastic thursday afternoon. And it's good cardio ;))
9. I play guitar, clarinet, saxophone and a bit of drums. Ok, i used* to play some of them. But left with an instrument for 2 days, and internet access, I'll play them again. The technique is still there.
10. I love blond-jokes! They are hillarious. Exactly because I am blond. Though, those who know me, know my hair colour is the least permanent part about me.
Ok, so that's that.... :)
Should you have any questions, comment.
So, 10 things about me, completely spontaneous, i promise.
1. I am a dog person. Cats are ok, but I will always prefer having a dog than a cat. And, just to clarify, those little Paris Hilton things are not dogs- they are rats with expensive coats and they make for fantastic door mats.
2. I have a complete obsession with left-handedness. Lefties, as well as other conditions that result from, or are at least related to, right brain hemispehre dominance- synaesthesia, possibly homosexuality, have the power to amuse me endlessly. I am currently left-handed. And one day I will find a left-handed partner, you'll see.
3. I am probably one of the 4 people in this world who prefer margarine to butter. It's marga-licious. No matter, being misunderstood is a sign of being a genious. :) Margarine rocks, it smells amazing, it's better for your cholesterol, and you don't have to wait 20 mins to warm up to be able to spread it.
4. Hyacinth is possibly my favourite flower. And I am not much about flowers but the smell of hyacinth is intoxicating.
5. I love olives. I have a whole "olive theory"- best couples are made of one person who loves them, and one who doesn't. Hugs for my "person", who's reading this and smiling. We're golden, darlin', aren't we?! :D
6. I have a tattoo on my lower back, of a tree, the roots of which spell out "sophia". It's awesome.
7. I have a very hard time, accepting being called "girlfriend". But when I do, you know I'm yours. At least for a bit ;)
8. Surprise, surprise- I am a city girl, and I probably always will be. I like the buzz of the city, that you can get lost in it, or just take a walk, the parks, the people (when there's not too many of them), the scenes, the trees, everything.
9. I pull off all-nighters for the purpose of sheer pleasure and emotional sanity. I think it's a habit resulting from the fact that i work best under pressure, so I tend to write assignments on the night(s) before they're due.
10. Last one, I better make it good...I am really a man! Ok, probably not in the same way you're thinking. But I can't wait for the World Cup to begin, sit with a cold beer in hand and scream agains the TV. I hate shopping and dieting, i don't want to get married, i'd rather swear, pick up girls, and watch football.
And here are a few things that may surprise all 3 of you who read it:
1.I am very down-to-earth. None of that artsy-fartsy indie music and arts. Most irritating thing, and i think many would agree- pseudo-intellectuals, like Duchamp and Warhol. And feminists.
2. I like rain. Summer rain. When everyone else is running home, but i walk slowly, smelling the rain, and the little bit of dust, when I am soaking wet... i can walk for hours under the rain.
3. I am an atheist who studies theology. And media.
4. I very rarely eat fish. I spent 3 years, off fish, but recently I started eating it, even if occasionally. Because of the penguins. Watch "Happy feet" and if tell me you didn't cry, you have a heart of stone.
5. On that note, i have much more sympathy for animals, than I do for humans. Humans are mean, stupid, lying and cheating, slick, cruel, ignorant and arrogant. Then again, I am sensitive to human emotions- i locate them often in the smallest situations, and when I see genuine kindless and love, especially from a stranger, I cry.
6. No, i am not one of the crazy, green, save-the-planet people. Don't they annoy us all, by being as selfless as most of us can never be?!
7. I've never broken anything. Not a bone. Yet.
8. I hate clubbing. As in going to clubs. Clubbing people, though, makes up for a fantastic thursday afternoon. And it's good cardio ;))
9. I play guitar, clarinet, saxophone and a bit of drums. Ok, i used* to play some of them. But left with an instrument for 2 days, and internet access, I'll play them again. The technique is still there.
10. I love blond-jokes! They are hillarious. Exactly because I am blond. Though, those who know me, know my hair colour is the least permanent part about me.
Ok, so that's that.... :)
Should you have any questions, comment.
Tuesday, 6 April 2010
"Sir , why did you follow the chicken that crossed the road?" -"Shit, a chicken crossed it too?"
I've gotten myself hallucinating, just like the guy who crossed the road without realising that he was in fact following what now has started to become a good friend of ours, the chicken.
I don't know what this fictional character did to hallucinate as much as to not see a chicken crossing a road. But i know exactly what I did- I didn't get good sleep for 12 days.
Enjoying the silence and calamity of the night is what drugs, alcohol or religion is to others. Allnighters are a complex, escapist and a drop of emotional sanity.It is relaxing just as much as it is an active process of reflection and creation. The beauty of the all-nighter hides in its overlooked simplicity: like a radio switched from short to long waves, cathartic exhaustion creates thought, even certainty in the most simple way: tiredness changes our perception, and what we take for axiomatically true becomes a theorem, instead. Doubt is a source of progress, and I tome this doubt is priceless.
How do we know what we think we know?
A good friend of mine, and a former teacher, told me just before I entered my senior year of highschool, that no matter how much work there is piling up, no matter how important this work is, one has to always find the time for oneself and for one's mental sanity. If you feel like playing guitar for 30 mins, then damn!, play that guitar in between writing the introduction and the body of that essay due tomorrow. This advice maybe actually saved my arrogant butt from a break down, now that I look back at that year- it was extremely stressful, with major changes which managed to provoke full-blown panic attacks; a half-wrecked relationship I had to recuscitate, despite my partner having signed a DNR; family issues... and among all that, I pulled myself together, do my work and do it well, and to even play that guitar...
If you'd like, imagine you're a contractor and you've been paid to build a two-storey hotel. You estimate, though, that the money you have will only suffice to build the ground floor properly, or you can lay down the basics of both floors, without leading it to a presentable, sellable finish. What do you do? You build the ground floor, open the hotel and after a while you have made enough profit to build the second floor, then expanding the business for even greater profit.
If that seems like the logical conclusion, why is it that so few times we actually take the time to first fix ourselves, before we move on to externally-induced problems?
I've set this space up as an expression of my arrogance and self-centeredness, so I'll indulge a bite more- all-nighters are my time to be left the fuck alone, to be quiet. This is no brag about my pseudo-intellectual moments of reaching truths that others miss out on when snoozing at 4 am. I don't claim to get to major explanations of why life is this way, who God is, or how we know what we think we know. Mind you, there is no God as far as I am concerned, so I am saved a lot of time there. Instead, I get to my little conclusions: I should've listened more, rather than speak so much to that fella at the party yesterday, so I make a decision to try to listen to people more often. I should be calmer and more grateful when it comes to my family. And, damn, I shouldn't have had that yoghurt after dinner, i'm so full now. Please. Dieting is for insecure girls with body image problems. But I don't like feeling so full. I feel like watching a good movie. Nothing overly dramatic, no politics/war movies. Just a simple film that I will remember and tell people about.
Where do hallucinations come in, then? I started the article with hallucinations. I get hallucinations when I don't sleep for more than 3 nights. And, damn if they aren't fun in a twisted way. I have more time to appreciate the world in its details, outside the inertia of the mundane. Yet it is not extraordinary to talk to my friends on the other side of the big pond, or getting high on caffeine, see the sun rise, dance, paint my nails, read a book, all that jazz. All That Jazz is an overstated movie, by the way. Guess how I know?
So, this is what I do that gets me smiling for no reason and makes you wonder what I might be up to. What do you do?
I don't know what this fictional character did to hallucinate as much as to not see a chicken crossing a road. But i know exactly what I did- I didn't get good sleep for 12 days.
Enjoying the silence and calamity of the night is what drugs, alcohol or religion is to others. Allnighters are a complex, escapist and a drop of emotional sanity.It is relaxing just as much as it is an active process of reflection and creation. The beauty of the all-nighter hides in its overlooked simplicity: like a radio switched from short to long waves, cathartic exhaustion creates thought, even certainty in the most simple way: tiredness changes our perception, and what we take for axiomatically true becomes a theorem, instead. Doubt is a source of progress, and I tome this doubt is priceless.
How do we know what we think we know?
A good friend of mine, and a former teacher, told me just before I entered my senior year of highschool, that no matter how much work there is piling up, no matter how important this work is, one has to always find the time for oneself and for one's mental sanity. If you feel like playing guitar for 30 mins, then damn!, play that guitar in between writing the introduction and the body of that essay due tomorrow. This advice maybe actually saved my arrogant butt from a break down, now that I look back at that year- it was extremely stressful, with major changes which managed to provoke full-blown panic attacks; a half-wrecked relationship I had to recuscitate, despite my partner having signed a DNR; family issues... and among all that, I pulled myself together, do my work and do it well, and to even play that guitar...
If you'd like, imagine you're a contractor and you've been paid to build a two-storey hotel. You estimate, though, that the money you have will only suffice to build the ground floor properly, or you can lay down the basics of both floors, without leading it to a presentable, sellable finish. What do you do? You build the ground floor, open the hotel and after a while you have made enough profit to build the second floor, then expanding the business for even greater profit.
If that seems like the logical conclusion, why is it that so few times we actually take the time to first fix ourselves, before we move on to externally-induced problems?
I've set this space up as an expression of my arrogance and self-centeredness, so I'll indulge a bite more- all-nighters are my time to be left the fuck alone, to be quiet. This is no brag about my pseudo-intellectual moments of reaching truths that others miss out on when snoozing at 4 am. I don't claim to get to major explanations of why life is this way, who God is, or how we know what we think we know. Mind you, there is no God as far as I am concerned, so I am saved a lot of time there. Instead, I get to my little conclusions: I should've listened more, rather than speak so much to that fella at the party yesterday, so I make a decision to try to listen to people more often. I should be calmer and more grateful when it comes to my family. And, damn, I shouldn't have had that yoghurt after dinner, i'm so full now. Please. Dieting is for insecure girls with body image problems. But I don't like feeling so full. I feel like watching a good movie. Nothing overly dramatic, no politics/war movies. Just a simple film that I will remember and tell people about.
Where do hallucinations come in, then? I started the article with hallucinations. I get hallucinations when I don't sleep for more than 3 nights. And, damn if they aren't fun in a twisted way. I have more time to appreciate the world in its details, outside the inertia of the mundane. Yet it is not extraordinary to talk to my friends on the other side of the big pond, or getting high on caffeine, see the sun rise, dance, paint my nails, read a book, all that jazz. All That Jazz is an overstated movie, by the way. Guess how I know?
So, this is what I do that gets me smiling for no reason and makes you wonder what I might be up to. What do you do?
Monday, 22 March 2010
Why did the chicken cross the road? Because it hoped there was something better on the other side.
Granted, I am in the kitchen at the moment, It's my 'creative' space, but when I say that I find myself in a weird, uncomfortable, challenging yet memorable and cherished space, it's not the kitchen I am referring to.
It's a space of change. I am neither my old sarcastic, misanthropic promiscuous self, nor the well-rounded calm, smiling and girly self that I'm slightly headed towards. Obviously, this is me being simplistic. Indeed, though, I have been making this big turn in my life and it has repercussions on all aspects- how I feel the relationships in my life should be, thus further affecting my style and external presentation, as well as my studying habits, my interests, even my hairstyle. And, inevitably, at a certain point, it becomes overwhelming. I am in the middle of this turn I am making- i've definitely started, much has changed as far as my outlook goes and I can't go back. Luckily, it seems like this change, or turn, is the right choice so I don't want to go back, either. I simply don't find within me the verbalised knowledge of what I want exactly, to come out of the turn.
I'll probably do well to be more specific. A simple thing, and it is unlikely i'm the only one who found themselves in such a situation- this new person I start to identify myself with, it simply needs a new avatar. Most of my clothes are literally exhausted from time and wearning, and I would enjoy to create a somewhat new style to match what I think i have become. However, since I haven't finalised the process, or maybe simply due to habit, i don't know what fits me. Ok, I can't say I care much about fitting into labeled boxes but not knowing how to describe yourself is frustrating. Except for the word "different"- different from my old self, and different from others, too. Maybe that should be my guideline.
There's some definite good news! I may not have the details od dresses and shoes down but I've reached an understanding with myself on what I want out of life. My summer 2010 is shaping up to be dedicated to work and internships, which is overwhelmingly positive and something I really am looking forward to. It's amazing what would have felt like 'sacrifice' at a certain point of maturity, or career pressure, becomes inspiring and a priority. Sure, the few weeks i will probably spend in Sophia will be anticipated to but anticipation makes it better, someone used to say. Though, it's probably not what he had in mind.
Being single is something i've enjoyed immensely but all good times must come to an end. I am ready to tip the scales in the opposite direction. If there's anything i've learned in the past two months, it's that I am ready to give. Of course, the difficult part is not deciding to give but finding whom to give it to.
As it goes, I've always had someone beside me to receive from. It's time that I gave some of it back. My lovely Yulianka has been there for me, though thick and thin for 14 years and she's been there for me in these last months of self-improvement, doubt and motivation. My family, too, have been a support for since I can remember, and despite all turbulent times, I can honestly say nothing compares to the calamity of coming back home. I can only hope they see a better person, when I am all done with carving and polishing the new me- I intend to smile more, love more and be a kinder person. I really do.
It's a space of change. I am neither my old sarcastic, misanthropic promiscuous self, nor the well-rounded calm, smiling and girly self that I'm slightly headed towards. Obviously, this is me being simplistic. Indeed, though, I have been making this big turn in my life and it has repercussions on all aspects- how I feel the relationships in my life should be, thus further affecting my style and external presentation, as well as my studying habits, my interests, even my hairstyle. And, inevitably, at a certain point, it becomes overwhelming. I am in the middle of this turn I am making- i've definitely started, much has changed as far as my outlook goes and I can't go back. Luckily, it seems like this change, or turn, is the right choice so I don't want to go back, either. I simply don't find within me the verbalised knowledge of what I want exactly, to come out of the turn.
I'll probably do well to be more specific. A simple thing, and it is unlikely i'm the only one who found themselves in such a situation- this new person I start to identify myself with, it simply needs a new avatar. Most of my clothes are literally exhausted from time and wearning, and I would enjoy to create a somewhat new style to match what I think i have become. However, since I haven't finalised the process, or maybe simply due to habit, i don't know what fits me. Ok, I can't say I care much about fitting into labeled boxes but not knowing how to describe yourself is frustrating. Except for the word "different"- different from my old self, and different from others, too. Maybe that should be my guideline.
There's some definite good news! I may not have the details od dresses and shoes down but I've reached an understanding with myself on what I want out of life. My summer 2010 is shaping up to be dedicated to work and internships, which is overwhelmingly positive and something I really am looking forward to. It's amazing what would have felt like 'sacrifice' at a certain point of maturity, or career pressure, becomes inspiring and a priority. Sure, the few weeks i will probably spend in Sophia will be anticipated to but anticipation makes it better, someone used to say. Though, it's probably not what he had in mind.
Being single is something i've enjoyed immensely but all good times must come to an end. I am ready to tip the scales in the opposite direction. If there's anything i've learned in the past two months, it's that I am ready to give. Of course, the difficult part is not deciding to give but finding whom to give it to.
As it goes, I've always had someone beside me to receive from. It's time that I gave some of it back. My lovely Yulianka has been there for me, though thick and thin for 14 years and she's been there for me in these last months of self-improvement, doubt and motivation. My family, too, have been a support for since I can remember, and despite all turbulent times, I can honestly say nothing compares to the calamity of coming back home. I can only hope they see a better person, when I am all done with carving and polishing the new me- I intend to smile more, love more and be a kinder person. I really do.
Sunday, 14 March 2010
Why did the chicken cross the road? Because the hen told him not to.
The pountchline of the joke, this week, is there to pose the question: what is left when it's all over?
One of my closest friends is someone I split up with 7 years ago, how is this even possible at my age?.... We've spent countless hours since, talking about our new relationships, there was even a failed engagement in the menu of things to talk about.Some days it's as simple as an ice cream and a walk in the park...Other times it's as heavy as the snow outside while we're sitting inside drinking tea at 11 pm days before Christmas talking about depression and life-goals. It's what you make it to be.
Do you not find it absurd, then, to give up a friendship potentially so good just because of past physical closeness? It is an odd oxymoron, and you can't spell oxymoron without "moron"...
A former partner put in my mouth the first chunk of dark chocolate with orange and spices, a taste as intense as his character- a bite of this same chocolate while I write these lines brings into the air the touch of his skin.A song...I have to make the effort not to close my eyes and open them in a room, 4 years ago, listening to this same song, next to someone who is now on a different continent.The question forming in the eyes of my first lover while hopefully reading this, wondering where is the acknowledgement of what the two of us had. The smell of hyacinth in my room right now is intoxicating, rich, full and it reminds me of this someone "purple". So here it is- this acknowledgement that long after you've split up with someone, inevitably tastes, smells, sounds will remind you of them.
But memory is partial and selective. And this is the crucial point. Sure, some people just tend to remember the good and some tend to remember the bad, and it is a matter of choice as well as variance of personalities. Me, I remember the good. I insist on walking the extra mile to keep my ex-es in my life, and surprising for the lazy bastard I am, I enjoy walking that extra mile. Once having decided to accept you in my life, romantically or as a friend, you are likely to be welcome to stay there. In a way, it is almost a utilitarian approach- you've spent energy in getting yourself acquainted with a whole new world of a whole new person, so to throw away this knowledge, effort and time seems inefficient.
Whatever it is that pumps that black luquid through the veins of my clinical-about-love body, skipped a beat when I picked up the Skype incoming call from my high-school boyfriend: to hear his voice, coming transatlantically, virtually and for the first time in two years was quite the experience. There was no hope or agenda in the 3 hours we spent talking online, to get back together or to even meet, I am sure he will agree. Just to hear how the other is doing, listen and share. With the 3 years that had passed, we'd found some new topics to laugh about, to add to the old ones. Despite its futility, this call was more comforting than anything i'd experienced in a while. In fact, talking to ex-es has that effect: the comfort of familiarity which is safe by default- you know their flaws, they know yours, there are no unpleasant surprises, just the same old voice that voluntarily or not, you associate with hearing the words "i love you" over and over again. And yes, the words "you're full of shit, you arrogant bitch", too.
So, just because there is "ex" in "sex", is that a reason enough to put the "ex" in the X-files when the "sex" has ex-pired?
Thursday, 4 March 2010
So... why did the chicken...?
I am concerned with why the chicken supposedly crossed the road, simply because the answer is relevant to a bigger question: why did the man cross the road? Well, that we know. The man crossed the road because he heard the chicken was a slut.
Ergo, if the chicken was indeed a slut, it crossed the road for 1 of 4 reasons:
1) it had reasons to believe there was more clientelle on the other side of the road.
2) it had already performed sexual services on the man, who subsequently crossed the road too, and was trying to get rid of him. Possibly to find someone else to screw for money.
3) there was a KFC outlet, whose deliveries had fallen through that day and the chicken had to get lost asap. Starting with crossing the road.
4) The chicken was utterly hammered and didn't know what it was doing. So it zig-zagged across to the other side of the road.
Of course, I am well aware that the validity of the argument is dependant on the major presupposition that the chicken which crossed the road was the exact same chicken that the man followed. Furthermore, the argument is also based on the presupposition that the rumour of the man-who-crossed-the-road-because-he-heard-the-chicken-was-a-slut is factual and not fictitious.
Concluding, I have briefly outlined, in a vivid manner, some of the problems hidden in otherwise simple anecdotes, such as this one. With further questions, confusions, logical equations or news on the whereabouts of the chicken, please write back.
Investigative reporter: The Velvet Pumpkin
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