Thursday, April 10, 2014

Chicken's Loyalty Program

We here at the Chicken's Consigliere would like to say thank you for being a loyal reader.  We know there are a lot of blogs out there, and we are honored....

Wait.   What did you say?  You're not a loyal reader?  You're just looking for a good chicken casserole recipe?  Oh!  Welcome!  Are you a member of  our loyalty club? Would you like to join?

In the style of great brands everywhere, we would like to buy your loyalty.  Here, have some points!  We're literally sprinkling points everywhere, see them?  Get them!  Grab some pretty sparkly  points why don't ya.  Here's a thousand points for your e-mail address, which we will litter with urgent calls to action, each and every day.  We'll give you ten thousand points every time you click our link.   Refer us to a friend, we'll give you 25,000 points.  If that friend leaves their favorite blog and swears fealty to the House of Chicken, we'll reward your friend with 100,000 points and a lifetime Golden Egg membership.

We here at Chicken's Consigliere are literally paving your way across the road with points, points and more points.  Why?  Well, that's the million dollar question, isn't it?  

What can you and your friends buy with Chicken Points?  Let us tell you about our membership benefits.  You can trade 50,000 points for an imaginary stay in the imaginary luxury accommodations of your choice.  Just think, you can imagine yourself by a beautiful pool or waterfall or stone fireplace (your choice!!)  You can sip imaginary cocktails while imaginary fairies, cowboys and naughty minxes anticipate your every need.  

You can also trade Chicken points for magic carpet ride points to anywhere in the universe.  That's right-we've teamed up with Sir Richard Branson, who's starting a magic carpet ride service to go along with his airline, rocket ship, and submarine services.  It's not just a magic carpet ride.  It's a Virgin carpet ride. 

You're a saver not a spender?  You're a Blog Warrior who spends 211 days a year reading blog posts?  We salute you!  With the points you're earning, you'll reach Golden Egg status in no time.  You're basically God in our blogosphere. You can buy a blog posting on any subject you choose and Disney will build a theme park to go with it. We'll send you your own Iron Throne.  And a dragon.  Not only that, but every time you stop by our blog, you'll have your choice of bottled water OR 500 extra Chicken points.  

Here at Chicken's Consigliere, we strive to exceed your blog expectations.  When you complain that our last blog post was trite and distasteful, we'll cough up an extra 5,000 points for your wasted time.  We'll upgrade you to top commenter  just because your imaginary towels weren't fluffy enough.   Oh no!  Did you lose the link to our website and miss our last blog post?  That's totally our fault. Please, accept these 50,000 extra points and a personal letter of apology from the Chicken.  And, by the way, should you ever feel inconvenienced or disappointed in our blog, please, call Mr. Chicken's office and let him in in on your hurt and disappointment.  We can't improve unless you tell us where we've failed.  And believe me, we are prepared to reward you mightily for being that squeaky blog cog.  We believe in nothing more than the entitlement of our loyal members.  

We're not just a blog. We're family.   In fact, we love you more than your family.  Does your family give you 40,000 loyalty points because your throat is sore from yelling about your lost phone charger?  The one you lost?  No?  Didn't think so.  They don't care about your  charger or your sore throat.  They're rolling their eyes at you.  So are we-but here's 40,000 extra points AND a bottle of water, just for your outrage.  Please accept our apologies.  We're sorry you lost your phone charger.  Totally our fault.

Chicken out

Disclaimer:  We are not rolling our eyes.  Not even a little bit.  Disney will not build you a theme park, nor will we send you an iron throne.  We do not own any dragons. Dragons are pretend.  Surely, you knew that.  Sir Richard Branson is still working on the magic carpet prototype. He's going to be really annoyed with us for letting the cat out of the bag. This is going to cost us a lot of points.

Disclaimer II:  Just to be super clear, there are no points.  And we don't know Sir Richard Branson. It pains us to admit it. 

Sunday, April 6, 2014

You Can't Escape the Atelier

I need to write and run today.  Littleb has big plans for me. The other day, as we were leaving his after school enrichment program, we noticed a book fair going on in the Atelier. Littleb has been enrolled in this school since he was 6-months-old and during that entire time, I've intended to look up the word "atelier" but I still haven't done it.  As far as I know, an atelier is a room where educational institutions trap unsuspecting parents and make them buy things to raise money for said institution with the remaining two bucks they have in their wallet after paying tuition each month; the two bucks they were saving towards a weekend macchiato.   An atelier is a lot like a spider's web-you can't easily extract yourself from it and before you know what's happening, you've been sucked dry.  And what's especially heartbreaking about the atelier is its location right next to the one exit in the building that's not alarmed.

No, there's no escaping the atelier.  Just try it sometime.  Here you come, swooping around the corner, nearly homefree, when you see the brightly colored posters and all the books, and you curse to yourself because you were so close you could nearly smell the flame-broiled burgers from the Burger King across the street.  But not close enough, because now your kid is in the atelier eating free crackers and looking for the Captain Underpants section.  Free crackers.  That's how they they entice the kids who aren't moved by piles of things that need purchasing, like Littleb.  

Every once in a while, you'll see a parent trying to wrestle their kid past the atelier.  It's always the rookies.  You have to have a little sympathy for the rookies.  They'll soon realize that it's easier to wrestle a salmon from the teeth of a rabid grizzly than it is to maneuver an over-tired 3-year-old past the atelier during book fair week.  I know you really wanted that macchiato, friend, but get in here and fork over all your money like the rest of us.  Welcome to the Atelier.  Here's the list of books that the toddler class needs.  That's right.  Not only are you buying books for your kid, you're also buying books for the school.  It's quite a racket they're running in the atelier.  Entirely voluntary, though.  Here.  Have another free cracker.  

Littleb couldn't find any Captain Underpants books but he did find a kid's cook book which fired every creative neuron in his twitching, over active little boy body.  And that's what he has in mind for me today.  He's got a grocery list a mile long and plans to recreate such juvenile delicacies as ice cream bon bons and cheesy bacon popovers.  I'm no rookie.  You can bet your sweet patootie that I tried to buy that book for the class so that they'd have to cook with my kid and buy the 600 necessary ingredients, but they were too clever for me.  It wasn't on the list.  

So, if you need me, I'll be spending my 401K at the grocery store and spending the rest of the day explaining the difference between folding and mixing.  As if I know.  I don't even know what an atelier is. 

Chicken out