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fried chicken and coffee, they're making me mean
subliminal
soopageek
have an incurable and chronic disorder. At first I thought I could live in silence and just put on a happy face every day, but I can no longer do that. I need the support and love of my friends if I'm going to live with this terrible affliction. It's called Popeye's Menu Dyslexia, or PMD. I'm not sure when it started, it feels like I've always lived with it. PMD is typified by the habitual tendancy to transpose the number of pieces of chicken you want for the numbered dinner on a Popeye's Chicken menu. Its symptoms include uncontrollable rage coupled with bouts of depression upon learning that you ordered the wrong thing. The following example is a typical Popeye's Menu board:

#1 2pcs chicken dinner
#2 3pcs chicken dinner
#3 4pcs chicken strip/nugget dinner

In the past I have wanted two pieces of chicken, walk right up to the counter and order a #2. Tonight, I wanted a #2 because I wanted 3 pieces of chicken, then proceeded to tell the lady at the counter I wanted a #3. And I never want a #3 because I'm pretty sure those things are made largely of ass. Oh my shame.


Chain wallets are a rather ingenius idea when you think about it. I don't know how many times a week I've nearly left my wallet in some strange place due to absent mindedness. I've considered getting one, but decided against it; I can't afford to lose that many pairs of pants on a weekly basis.
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I'd much prefer to have better access to KFC, but Popeye's has become well entrenched in one of the major truckstop chains. Popeye's chicken is alright, and they have some great side-foods, but I'd much rather have the Colonel any day.

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