actual celebrity

Chinese Woman Trains Chickens to Play Soccer

If you’re like me, the first thing you thought of when you read the headline was, “Bullshit.” And if you’re even more like me than you realized, the second thing you thought was, “Why do the Chinese always do the weirdest shit?” Both of those points are valid issues to take with the headline itself.

With these roosters, maybe China will qualify higher next time. (Hey-oh!)

But seriously, since I know you won’t read the article, this poultry match consists of only two players who use their feet and wings to handle the ball. Which sounds like bending the rules a little to me, but you’re already reading about roosters who play soccer, so…

The article also keeps referring to this person as “he,” even though she’s clearly a woman wearing Chinese mom jeans. (The headline also says “rosters,” so what are you gonna do.)

In other news, this reminded me of a story I had heard as a child, which I originally dismissed as an old wives’ tale (designed, I guess, to exacerbate my “Sleep Anxiety Disorder”). But I looked it up and it’s actually true. The Internet never lies.

There was a farmer who cut his chicken’s head off in preparation for eating, only to find the chicken still lived. And since I know you won’t click that link either, The chicken retained its jugular vein and most of its brain stem, leaving it capable of doing instinctual things like breathe, eat, and occasionally preen and (attempt to) crow. Since the trachea and esophagus were basically exposed to the air, the owners kept Mike’s windpipe clean with an eyedropper and fed him with a syringe straight into his gullet. The farmer traveled the country for a while making something like $50,000 in today’s money. “Mike the Headless Chicken” died one night when his owners were unable to clean his clogged trachea in time, leaving the bird to choke to death.

So, in conclusion, chickens are either 1.) highly adaptable in that they can be trained in sports professionals do for millions of dollars a year, and even live on for several years with most of their heads missing, or 2.) they’re among the lowest on the brain activity scale and are able to do almost nothing for themselves, needing only the barest essentials of organs to do even complicated instinctual activities.

“Mike the Headless Chicken” also reminded me of the novel Johnny Got His Gun where the soldier slowly realizes his face, limbs, sight, speech, and hearing are all gone and he’s just “a piece of meat that keeps on living.” And as if that idea couldn’t get any more disturbing, the novel was made into a movie with Donald Sutherland, and also inspired the Metallica song “One;” a band so metal, they even have the word “metal” in their name.

So, what happens in the mind of a soccer playing rooster? Or in the medulla oblongata of a headless chicken? Could Mike have played soccer? Could the roosters have continued to play after losing their heads? Do they get angry with themselves when they lose? Do they fake injuries for superfluous indirect kicks like those pussy-ass Italians? Just because we CAN make a movie about something as disturbing as being locked inside your own brain, does that mean we should? Would Mike want his story told? Or would he just want to be glazed and rotisseried like any other self-respecting chicken.

Think about that the next time you get $0.10 hotwings, Monday nights at The Wild Goose on Lincoln Ave.

More Pictures

I’m sure this transvestite sounds great in other interviews. I’m sure she just had a cold or something. Als0, I don’t speak a word of Portuguese, even though it’s apparently a romance language like Spanish, but I’m pretty sure she’s saying the same things over and over to each question.

“Who are you wearing this evening?”
“Boing boing.”
“What inspired you to be a superstar?”
“Uh, boing boing, and boing. Oh! And, boing boing.”

Don’t get me wrong; be whoever you want to be.  I’m all for the freedom of personal expression.

But.

If you’re going to do an interview on television, just maybe wait until your oestrogen, progesterone, or your ethinyloestradiol or whatever vocal chord scraping you’re having done as started working. Just an idea. Also, maybe learn to speak the language you’re being interviewed in.

Or have C3-PO translate for you while you say the same things over and over.
“…Because he’s holding a thermal detonator!”

I’m glad I found this.  I feel like it’s good to warn people about the coming end. This is the beginning of the end. I guess one could argue it may have started with Li’l Bow Wow (who recently decided he’s too “mature” for the Li’l, though not quite too mature yet to be bothered by the fact he’s still named after the sound a doggy makes).

I digress.

If someone who speaks better Spanish than me would enlighten as to what he’s saying exactly, but I swear he says something about burritos at the beginning. I also love his back-up prosti-tot dancers. Classic.

Don’t hate. Not everyone can look like the baby from the show Dinosaurs.

I don’t get it, but I guess that’s the point. Check out their awesome site.

Only posted this because I think it’s funny. Namata is the self-proclaimed king of R&B in Norway.  But, if you watch the video, there’s a few things you should note: 1)He sorta looks like Flava Flav in that they both have that struck match quality to their skin tone, 2)He sorta dances like Heidi Montag in her self-produced video, and finally 3)I love how his lady-friend is passed out on the bar at 1:01. It’s like she couldn’t deal with it either.

Think about moving to Norway where you can self-apply any title you want.  Also considering wearing a giant clock.