Graveyard Dirt: Two Worlds and In-between

Oh, HELL No

THIS MORNING? JUST BEFORE I WOKE UP? I DREAMT ABOUT BEING BACK IN HIGH SCHOOL AND STEALING FOOD. THAT'S RIGHT - NOT NAKED, NOT LATE FOR A CLASS, NOT FREAKING OUT OVER A TOTALLY UNEXPECTED POP QUIZ, BUT STEALING FOOD OUT OF THE TEACHER'S LOUNGE.

IT WAS THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL AND THE FRIDGE HAD A BAG OF BUTTERMILK FRIED CHICKEN AND I WAS ALL "OH HELL NO, SOMEONE'S JUST GOING TO //LEAVE// THIS CHICKEN HERE?" QUICKLY FOLLOWED BY "OH HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL NO, IT'S GOIN' HOME WITH ME, THIS CHICKEN'S COMIN' HOME WITH ME!" AND BEFORE I KNEW IT I HAD A BAG OF FRIED CHICKEN, A LOAF OR TWO OF GARLIC BREAD AND A SWORN DUTY TO ORGANIZE A MID-SUMMER BEACH PARTY FOR MY CLASSMATES AT LAKE MICHIGAN.

(I DIDN'T EVEN WAKE UP HUNGRY!)

(AND, ALSO, THE BAG OF FRIED CHICKEN? ALL BREAST. 100% WHITE MEAT AND BATTERED SKIN, BABY.)

I MEAN, LET'S BE COMPLETELY HONEST - WHAT THE FUCK WOULD'VE YOU DONE WHEN FACED WITH THE PROSPECT OF SCORING A FREE BAG OF BUTTERMILK FRIED CHICKEN WHOSE MERE EXISTENCE APPEARED TO HAVE BEEN A DIVINE JOINT EFFORT/PROJECT BETWEEN ANGELS, DEVAS AND BUDDHAS? AND NOW WHAT IF - WHAT IF! - EVERY PIECE IN THAT FREE BAG OF FRIED CHICKEN MADE BY THE SPIRITUALLY ENLIGHTENED WAS PURE, UNADULTERATED CHUNKS OF SUCCULENTLY JUICY, GLEAMING-AS-IF-IT-HAD-BEEN-BLEACHED BREAST?

(EXACTLY, "OH, HELLLLLLLL NO! FUCK THE TEACHERS; THE CHICKEN'S GOIN' HOME WITH ME!")