I need my own chicken. I need a chicken that will lay me eggs.
Yesterday I ate five eggs. Today I've had 2 1/2. Ah, but it's merely 2 p.m.
Oh, Atkins. Soon I will start clucking.
Or maybe I will become like Edie, the Egg Lady, from Pink Flamingos.
Dear God, no.
In the words of Divine, "I am the filthiest person alive!"