Dear Popeye’s… 1 February 06

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We met in the early 80’s through my family. I was a young boy…free and open to new things. You were the new kid on the block…a rising star to everyone in the know.

I have an Aunt and Uncle that love you to this day (how y’all Roy & ‘Letta?).

But I’m writing this to say something I’ve known for quite a while now…

Popeye’s…we can’t see each other any more.

Though nobody does spicy or crunchy like you…and your biscuits are heavenly, you’re bad for me Popeye’s. I’vetried to scale back the time we spend together (once a month), but it’s always the same results. You leave me with whyle bowels & da borderline muddbutt (Dave Chappelle©). It’s worse than a hangover in my opinion. Having to devote up to 5…6 hours of time being prepared for the inevitable. Scared to leave the house, or move too much or too fast. Look at what you’ve done to me.

Popeye’s you’re so good, but you’re so bad for me.

I’ll remember you always. And now I retire you to the rafters…on this the first day of “so-called” Black History month (mind you the shortest damn month of the year), February 1, in the year of our lord Richard Pryor 2006 a.d.

I’m gonna miss you,kid. Bye.

p.s., for more funstatic comedy at the expense of well loved African-American cuisine, please check out (located to the right on my trusty web log roll), There you will find an episode of “The Boondocks” entitled “The Itis”


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