"WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD?"

 

We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road or not. The chicken is either with us or it is against us. There is no middle ground here.

 

I invented the chicken. I invented the road. Therefore, the chicken crossing the road represented the application of these two different functions of government in a new, reinvented way designed to bring greater services to the American people.

 

The chicken's habitat on the original side of the road had been polluted by unchecked industrialist greed. The chicken did not reach the unspoiled habitat on the other side of the road because it was crushed by the wheels of a gas-guzzling SUV.

 

To steal a job from a decent, hardworking American.

 

I don't know why the chicken crossed the road, but I'll bet it was getting a government grant to cross the road, and I'll bet someone out there is already forming a support group to help chickens with crossing-the-road syndrome. Can you believe this? How much more of this can real Americans take? Chickens crossing the road paid for by their tax dollars, and when I say tax dollars, I'm talking about your money, money the government took from you to build roads for chickens to cross.

 

No one called to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the farmer's market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.

 

Because the chicken was gay! Isn't it obvious? Can't you people see the plain truth in front of your face? The chicken was going to the "other side." That's what they call it -- the other side. Yes, my friends, that chicken is gay. And, if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like "the other side."

 

Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, The chicken crossed the road, But why it crossed, I've not been told!

 

To die. In the rain. Alone.

 

In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Someone told us that the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough for us.

 

Isn't that interesting? In a few moments we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heartwarming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting and went on to accomplish its life-long dream of crossing the road.

 

Imagine all the chickens crossing roads in peace.

 

It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

 

It was a historical inevitability.

 

This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.

 

I may not agree with what the chicken did, but I will defend to the death its right to do it.

 

To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.

 

You saw it cross the road with your own eyes! How many more chickens have to cross before you believe it?

 

The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.

 

I have just released eChicken 2003, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook -- and Internet Explorer is an inextricable part of eChicken.

 

Did the chicken really cross the road or did the road move beneath the chicken?

 

I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What do you mean by chicken? Could you define chicken, please?

 

And God came down from the heavens, and He said unto the chicken, "Thou shalt cross the road." And the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.

 

Because he was disatisfied with himself and blamed his side of the road for his discontent.