Day 2 of my emergency Voodoo education: somebody told me I'm going to need some chickens. What?! Dear God, do they have to be live chickens? Or can I use, like, rubber chickens? What on Earth do you do with them? I can tell you right now I'm not fond of live chickens. An aunt had chickens when I was a kid and those fat little bastards chased my siblings and me and pecked at our feet. No way am I subjecting myself to that again. I guess I'd better be finding out if there's chickenless Voodoo. The only place I want to see a chicken is on my plate, nicely roasted.
I love Godsmack's “Voodoo” and I could definitely play that the whole time I'm doing whatever it is I'll be doing. Just please, God, don't let it be chicken rituals. Drums, check. Bonfire, check. Dancing, check, as long as nobody calls me spastic. And no damn live chickens.
My education continues.
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