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Saturday, June 21, 2014

Fried Chicken Voyages

Captain James T. Pork here, commander of -- christ, I'm not the commander of anything!  But I do love a fine fried chicken.  Lord knows I've traveled all over the place searching for the best fried chicken.  These are the tales of my voyages.

It was a sultry summer evening and I wanted pizza.  No, just kidding, I wanted fried chicken.  I was in Harlem, where people like their fried chicken.  I stopped in at United Fried Chicken on Lenox for some fried chicken.  In past chronicles you may have read commentaries on their fried fish sandwich.  I will leave discussion of those matters to others, though, for I claim to be an expert of only one thing.

The fried chicken at United Fried was respectable.  There was a good crust and the meat was well-salted.  I sat outside and ate my fried chicken and noticed some strange-looking life forms who seemed not to be from this planet.  They looked suspicious so I cautiously approached, thinking I would capture them and learn of their intents.  It was possible they wanted to cause some harm, or perhaps even sabotage United Fried Chicken.  I jumped out from the shadows and quickly tied them to a street sign.  After some questioning I learned they were just tourists from Ohio.  "Ahem, never can be too careful these days!" I said, and offered them some tips on where to get good fried chicken.  They were rather gracious about the mix-up and we parted good friends.

Just another evening of fried chicken and curious new encounters. These are the voyages of James T. Pork.