My poor brother, Rubin. It’s such a shame. He tries so hard and nothing ever seems to make a difference.

Rubin is my half-brother from another clutch and he has always felt somewhat inferior to his other hatchlings. And for no good reason, in my opinion. He’s tall, seems to know his way around the pen, knows when to crow about things and when not to.

Sure, he may not have the ‘movie star look’ like some of us but still, his gizzard is in the right spot.

He just can’t seem to snag a mate.

My cousin Kevin pointed out that there are other options he could entertain, such as declaring that he has gender fluidity and would be willing to peck around ‘on the other side of the fence’. Explore the taboo side of his desires. Maybe slap on some eye shadow and learn to swing what mother nature gave him.

But, he’s now trying this protester sign method. Maybe he should travel to Portland, put on black clothes, goggles and helmet and get in the middle of an ANTIFA riot?  Oppps… sorry!… Protest…  that’s a protest.

 

My New ‘Chick Magnet’