You Want Heat? Good. Cause These Wings Are Comin’ In Nashville Hot!: Bone Vs. The Boneless.
Rude Chicken takes the world to task in the war of Bone-In Vs. Boneless wings.
Millions of my brothers and sisters die every year to feed your stupid mouths.
You slice us, dice us, bread us, saute’ us, compact our odds and ends into ironic dinosaurs?! You serve us up so many ways if Bubba was still alive, he’d still be naming ways to prep our delicious and meaty corpses.
See, I don’t blame you.
I’m not even mad.
Not really.
I’m surprisingly understanding and zen. On my best day, I’m still a cannibalistic prey animal. We eat each other all the time, and we don’t even have honey mustard.
So, I get it. But what I don’t get?
Don’t call them boneless wings.
Don’t disrespect me.
Our Sacrifice.
They’re nuggets.
Charitably?
Tenders.
If you want wings?
EAT THE DAMN WINGS.
THE CARTILAGE.
TO THE BONE.
(The marrow if you’re an overachiever. Everyone’s got that one grandparent or grand something relative that does that cause they’re real AF. When they say get off their lawn, you get off their lawn. No questions asked.)
Sure we may be prey animals, but we can live weeks without a head.
We sometimes eat our young.
Raw.
You think we’re scared of you?
You—Simon? With your sport mode Crocs and daily Prilosec habit? Sitting there peeling your nuggies? You’d starve to death before eating something cause of “I don’t like the texture!” Shit you’re more of a prey animal than we are!
You can disrespect yourself down to the bottom of the food chain all day, cause I don’t care how quickly you die in the zombie apocalypse. But you keep your self esteem issues to yourself, and call things what they are.
I can’t wait till we evolve back into T-Rex’s again.
We’re coming for ya.
-RC