That’s why this new Popeye’s commercial was so upsetting. I know I’m not supposed to eat fried chicken, I know I should probably never look a Popeye’s franchise in the face. But this thing they’re selling is called chicken and there’s no way it can be.
So can I eat it or not?!
What say someone accidentally brings this thing to an event. Let’s pretend that I’m starving at the corner of Hollywood and Wilcox and can’t possibly get across the street and this is all that’s available? Mayhaps one day I go on Fear Factor and have to eat one of these for a million dollars. Can I indulge?
Nothing about a chicken happens the way it appears in the Rip’n Chick’n basket. No parts of a pollo comes in a 6-pronged piece. Zero locations on a bird’s body look like this venus fly trap of a deep fried disaster.
The only things in nature that look like this fried are human hands, tarantulas and the boning of a Chinese hand fan. None of which are off menu for an Oreo. But just think how embarrassing it would be to bite into what you think is a perfectly harmless drawn and quartered Medusa head only to find out that you’re doing something worse than potentially being turned into stone: acting like an RBP and enjoying some down home L’siana cookin’. UghBarf.