Chicken. Underpants. Grammar. What's not to like?

Grrr. Bleh. Duh. Ick.
*ahem*

Of course, the best thing for a broken heart is saturated fat. And sodium. Excessive sodium. With this in mind, I hied myself down to the nearest Burger King for lunch today. Hell, I'm now a true spinster even by the strictest letter of the law, so a bikini-worthy body is no longer a priority. Besides, it's November, so I can afford to be cavalier. I ordered a processed-chicken-product sandwich, then returned to home base and shared it with my cats, as any spinster worth her salt would do. I probably should have put on my sunbonnet for this activity, but the beloved bonnet is lost somewhere in that metric assload of moving boxes.

Poor sunbonnet. I think I might hear the faint wail of my neglected savings account, too. I seem to be all about neglect of things prairie lately.

In a misguided attempt to achieve a zen-like state, I fear I'll have to bust out my mad haiku skillz:

Since there's no cheesecake,
And no Haagen-Dazs around
Crap chicken it is!

Oval-shaped, enhanced
With fatty bits resembling
Pencil erasers.

How do they do it?
How do they hide the gristle
Right in the center?

Tucked in carefully,
I think I am safe. Alas!
Four bites in, I'm screwed.
----

When did I gather
This number of underpants?
How did this happen?

Lazy on laundry,
I've gone so far as to wear
Bikini bottoms

I didn't need to,
Since I obviously own
Fifteen thousand pairs.

Were they all hiding?
Challenging me? Appearing
Only when I move?
----

Know what drives me nuts?
Misused apostrophe marks.
They're not for plurals.

More horrifying?
Quotation marks that are used
To show emphasis.

If I see a sign
Saying "fresh" fish, I think it's
Anything but. Yuck.