Tastes Like Baby Foot

Some "crafty" worker in Durham, North Carolina caused a stir the other day, by placing a "baby's foot" in a box of frozen chicken. By "baby's foot", I mean a shaped lump of dough. And by "crafty", I mean twisted bored-at-work lunatic (read: me). That's not nearly as bad as when I found a bronzed baby shoe in my Lean Pocket (and, no, that is not a euphemism for my vagina).

This brings to mind a story my parents told me of this idiot woman in Long Island they used to know. My parents were invited over for a dinner party, and on the menu was some Shake N' Bake chicken. When they bit into the breaded pieces, there was no chicken inside. The woman had just shaped the mix into the shapes of chicken legs and baked it. True story. But knowing my parents in the 70s, I wouldn't be surprised if she was a little baked herself.