"Chicken-fried chicken" never fails to amuse me.

Right there with you. It's funniest when I catch myself using it with no irony.

I've only had venison in forms that make the meat unrecoginizable (sausage and jambalaya (eta: and chili)), so I really don't know if I like it or not.

There was a letter to the NYTimes food section today from a woman who was deeply offended at their cover picture for last week's goat story. (It was a picture of an amazingly nummy looking goat rib roast with all the trimmings.) How dare they offer up the result of the slaughter of an innocent baby goat (her exact words) for their readers to salivate over?

It had me wondering if she writes in every week, or she honestly never thought about where hamburgers came from.

Amych! Congratulations to you and the Mr!

Hey now. The Royals can always know that they swept the Yankees in 2005. That's something to keep for a rainy day.

Also, just think -- the Royals are managed by someone (anyone!) other than Lou Piniella. I don't know a thing about their new manager, except that he is a white man not named Lou Piniella.

I've had venison sausage. It was too rich for me--and I don't usually have a problem with that sort of thing.

It had me wondering if she writes in every week, or she honestly never thought about where hamburgers came from.

Maybe it just the eating of goats that disturbs her. She might be a nongoatitarian.

From, Answers.com:

chick·en-fried
adj.
Coated with batter and seasoned flour and fried: “endless iron skillets overflowing with chicken-fried steak” (Joel Achenbach).

Maybe her religion believed the goat to be sacred.

I don't know a thing about their new manager, except that he is a white man not named Lou Piniella.

He's Buddy Bell. With a name like that, you pretty much have to be baseball manager.

He's Buddy Bell. With a name like that, you pretty much have to be baseball manager.

Or a puppet that's a spokesperson for Taco Bell.