written by Jimmy (chicken)
Quick, think of a chicken dish in a Chinese restaurant. General Tsoʼs Chicken. Did I guess right? General Tsoʼs is by far the most popular chicken dish served in Asian restaurants. And why shouldnʼt it be? Itʼs named after a great military hero.
Only we chickens are good enough to share a dish with his name. They donʼt make General Tsoʼs Pig or General Tsoʼs Dog (at least not officially.) Itʼs an honor bestowed only upon chickens. An honor that comes at a great price, however. Remember, the more popular a dish is, the more it is ordered. See where Iʼm headed? More dead chickens. I have no idea what to get-- Wait a second! Iʼll have the General Tsoʼs Chicken. I donʼt even know whatʼs in it but if itʼs good enough for such a great General... Probably happens dozens of times a day. Suddenly sharing the dish with the general is not such an honor, is it?
General Tso Tsungtang had a very distinguished military career in the mid 1800s. He also suffered from malaria. Sorry. I donʼt know why I brought that. I donʼt want you to associate General Tso with malaria. Anyway, the dish wasnʼt invented by him nor did he ever taste it. As best historians can tell, it wasnʼt until a hundred years later (1974) that it first appeared in Pengʼs Szechuan/Hunan style restaurant in New York City.
Blah, blah. I donʼt care. Iʼm sure peaches donʼt care who Melba was either. What I do care about is that now millions of humans order it simply because itʼs named after a war hero. A war hero who had numerous bouts of dysentery, by the way. Oops. Sorry. I accidentally did it again. It would be a shame if you couldnʼt get dysentery out of your head every time you saw General Tso on a menu. Or malaria. Terrible disease, malaria. Not to suggest that dysentery is pretty either. So please try not to picture either malaria or dysentery in your mind every time you see the name General Tso.
Again, sorry I brought it up.
written by Sam (bull)
Dear Ranch Owner,
I'm not a vet or anything but I may have E-coli.
I've been feeling a little weird recently. It might just be a cold or the flu or something but why take the chance? If I were you I'd sneak me off this ranch as soon as possible. You probably want to run some tests first, make sure it definitely is E-coli. That's understandable. Follow the normal protocol and all that.
If it was me though, I wouldn't risk the delay.
What if the meat inspector shows up tomorrow morning by surprise? He'll kill ALL the cows just to be safe. An empty ranch isn't worth much. It's your decision, of course, and I know it isn't up to me. I'm just saying. Look, I know what the future holds for me - I continue to eat beer-soaked grain until the day I walk into that Barn Of No Return over there and you sell my meat to a butcher. That's right, I know. I've seen the PETA videos. I'm not happy about the situation but what can I do, make a run for it? We both know I wouldn't get far. Then again, maybe I'll get far enough to reach a pay phone and call the meat inspector. Why risk the whole ranch when you could just sneak me off the grounds tonight with the promise I won't make that call? You can't pay the mortgage with just beer-soaked grain. Maybe I don't have E-coli. Than again, maybe I do. Getting me off this ranch as soon as possible might just be your best insurance policy.
written by Douglas (owl)
I am bulimic. I am not proud of this but I feel that I need to openly admit it to help myself and for the betterment of owls everywhere. Iʼm not sure how it started and I am not pointing any wings. It could have been the pressures of our society to stay thin. Or maybe it was always being called the ʻfat birdʼ of the parliament...I donʼt know.
Last week I caught my reflection in the pond and I hated it. In fact, I was disgusted by it. When did that healthy, strong, Great Horned Owl turn into this pathetic pigeon-looking thing (no offense, pigeon friends)? My plumage was thinning, my eyes were vacant, and heck, I can barely muster enough strength to hold a field mouse in my beak (no offense to field mice). Want proof that I hit rock bottom? I started sleeping at night!
Look, I know sticking talons down my beak is wrong, but I canʼt help myself. If I eat a frog, rodent, or snake I want to keep it down. Out of respect. I donʼt want to waste you. So, please, if any of you have some advice I would really appreciate it.
written by Fred Kipster (mouse)
For years I worked for GlaxoSmithKline in their research division. When it was discovered I had developed liver cancer, I figured the gig was up. I assumed theyʼd give me a small severance and send me home to “get my affairs in order.” Boy, was I wrong!
The caring folks at GlaxoSmithKline set up a research lab, hired the top scientists in the world and poured tens (maybe hundreds!) of millions of dollars into finding a cure. For me! And they did it knowing full well thereʼs no way Iʼll ever be able to pay them back. That, my friends, is called taking care of your employees.
Granted, I got the cancer from them in the first place but why point fingers? Hey, mistakes happen. You store the Thorium pellets next to the mouse food... Lesson learned. The point is, management at GlaxoSmithKline took responsibility. When it became clear no other company had a cure for liver cancer, they dug in and worked to find a cure themselves. They decided that money is not the most important thing. The most important thing is fixing what you break.
Say what you want about corporations being soulless. This one saved my life.