Ever dig through your freezer and find something you can’t remember serving? Worse, you forgot to label it and it could be steak, shrimp or pancakes for all you can tell.
This came out of a conversation with a family member about restaurants and how they all have SO MANY menu options now. We were remembering restaurants from long ago that served, basically, one thing. Maybe a variant or two on that thing.
My first thought was a “feeling down” joke that might have been inappropriate. I like this one better. And since Flatfoot’s girlfriend is a chicken, that kind of ruined the first joke, anyway.
I’m sure this legend still exists in some quarters. I remember being told it as fact when I was a child and being afraid for my cousin who picked up a dead armadillo.
