This Weekend, a Chance to Peep at the Coot. Oh, Wait, Sorry. That's "Coop."

• Great, now I'll have the Green Acres theme running through my head for the rest of the evening. But on the other hand, I can envision a tee-shirt with that picture on it.

• But would the ALF be there to free the hens or Jim? I'm a willing participant at one of the coops on the tour, though my livestock is much less work, produces no smell poo, can compost the hens poo into no smell poo, and doesn't cackle like deranged asylum escapees after laying their eggs. Composting worms, Jim...you wouldn't have the scowl, the clenched fists, or the demands to speak Spanish. They just quietly go about the business of recycling our produce scraps, cardboard, leaves, and all of the waste(except the gardening section) of the city's daily publication. Then the compost they produce is black gold for your garden--or that secret hydroponic setup the police have under surveillance. ...and I gotta add, that picture is plucking hilarious.

• At our house, it's kind of like my wife is the Cindy Sheehan of chickens and I'm the Alberto Gonzalez.

• Josh Hixson says: I believe it's pronounced "pull it." At least that's how the kids in my Ag Science 101 class at TAMU said it. ******** Nah, when it's pronounced "pull it," it's spelled "pullet," and it's a young hen, not chickens in general. I grew up with lots of poultry-farmin' kids and one can't help but pick up the terminology. I'm guessing it comes from the mangling of "poulet," and who knows? That mangling may have originally occurred at A&M back in Ol' Army Days (whenever the heck that was). So, Schutze, aren't you and the Missus worried about the Animal Liberation Front scoping out your chicken Guantanamo? Those folks get violent, you know.

• Woke up this morning Looking for kicks Went down to the barnyard To stomp on some chicks They call me wreckin' ball 'Cause I'm the baddest of them all The life I lead Is mighty slim pickins There ain't no call For stompin' on chickens They call me wreckin' ball 'Cause I'm the baddest of them all I'll stomp on an egg Stomp on a duck Geese or cornish hens I don't give a fuck They call me wreckin' ball 'Cause I'm the baddest of them all Well, roosters and hens And all their feathered friends They know it's time to fly When I come stompin' by Well, cockle-doodle-do I'm gonna put my spell on you That's the call Of the wreckin' ball

• @ Tom L- It's not that it's not right, it's fowl. Jim- Losing a third of one's tool shed, is that similar to a botched circumcision?

• Hate to say this on a blog after all...but...a picture truly is worth a thousand words. 'nuff said.

• Lakewooder: No. In fact I know the answer to that question: To return to its people.

• JimS, was it you that said: "In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Someone told us that the chicken had crossed the road, and that was good enough for us".

• American Goth-ick!

• Tom L: Without anesthetic.

• Wait a minute, here. You had to cut off a third of your TOOL SHED!? My condolensces, Jim. That's just not right, man, that's just not right.

• Nice work on the coop, braces to reinforce the mitered 45 degree angles makes it sturdy while also appearing as open lattice work. Moving on, please work on unclenching your fist before Sunday, American Gothic minus the Missus. You look like a disgruntled Protestant and I suspect you have something hidden there for an unsuspecting visitor. No merde on my the back of my shirt, Monsieur!

• I believe it's pronounced "pull it." At least that's how the kids in my Ag Science 101 class at TAMU said it. Their French was reserved for an article of footwear (s*@#t-kickers) used when cleaning up after said "pull its." They also said the name is a term derived from the process of determining a baby chick's gender, but that may be a load of bull.

• Jim, You look like a chicken plucker. Did I spell that right?

• That's one of the best photos I've ever seen

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