Well! Somehow, I just knew that Swistle’s audience would be the right audience to get this INTERNET PHENOMENON rolling. I am beyond thrilled at the sheer number of excited participants who left comments. I am hoping that there is a subgroup of lurkers who are planning to play, but did not comment, based on my stats for the day:
(Each of those peaks represents a day that Swistle linked to me, with the debut of TCG at the end.)
But a few people had some questions, left in both the comments on my blog and on Swistle’s, and I want to address them here rather than within the comment section because I never trust that people are going back to read updates in the comments. I usually don’t.
Question 1: Ack! I want to play, but I don’t understand the rules! Do I have to buy an infinite number of chickens and hide them on everyone I know, never to see them again? I mean, they’re cheap, but an infinite number of anything begins to add up.
Answer: Relax. You do not have to buy chickens for the rest of your life. All players in TCG hide the chickens on each other; whoever finds the chicken picks the next place to hide it. So you can play with everyone in your household or workplace or wherever using a single chicken that simply makes the rounds. Of course you are welcome to leave the chickens at other people’s homes, mail them out, or include them in gifts as well, but you have to be prepared not to see those particular chickens again. Those chickens will go to join a new household, this insuring the spread of the INTERNET PHENOMENON.
Question 2: How do people who didn’t read this post know what to do with the chicken when they find it?
Answer: The original chicken game evolved organically, but I think you’ll probably have to tell them. You can leave a note with the chicken the first time, or you could hide the chicken and then oh-so-casually tell them about the INTERNET PHENOMENON sweeping the nation before they have a chance to find it. Either way. But if you don’t tell them, you might end up in a situation like Stimey’s where the chicken just stays put. Forever.
Question 3: How long does the chicken game last?
Answer: My extensive chicken game research suggests that with a fresh group of TCG participants, there is a flurry of excited and frequent chicken-hiding which peters out after a few weeks as people start to run out of novel hiding places. But you can play it forever; you will probably just wait longer and longer to re-hide the chicken. For example, I had not hidden the chicken on Andrew for months, but I squirreled a few of them away in his luggage last month when he went on a business trip. One in his shaving kit, one in his suit coat pocket, and one amidst his underwear.
Question 4: Will you mail me a chicken?
Answer: Absolutely! INTERNET PHENOMENONS don’t just happen, people. Email me your snail mail address at docmaureen at yahoo dot com. Or you can leave it in the comments if you like, but you probably don’t like.
Question 5: I am Shelly Overlook, and I won your PIF. Will there be a chicken in it?
Answer: Shelly, part of the reason the PIF package has not yet been sent is because I had to wait until I wrote about TCG so that you would know what to do with the chicken(s). (The other part of the reason is because I am not what you might call “prompt”.)
In other news, I am 24 weeks as of today. Ack indeed.
(Note: I took these today, after receiving my ashes for Ash Wednesday. So that's what is going on on my forehead up there.)
I have entered what I believe to be the “cute belly” stage where you can finally tell I’m pregnant even when I’m wearing maternity tops (that shirt is not one), but I’m not yet at the stage where people are surreptitiously following me around the store to make sure I don’t pop out a baby right there.
Speaking of people assuming women are ready to pop, can I tell you of my theory? I have come to the conclusion that the general population thinks that women who are seven to eight months pregnant are “ready to pop” because everyone forgets what a nine-month pregnant woman actually looks like. They forget for two reasons: First, women who are 40-weeks pregnant don’t really get out much, so the general population does not see very many women who are actually “ready to pop.” The 40-week pregnant women are all at home, nursing their sore backs. They are certainly not driving; they can’t, because they can’t turn around to look behind them when they want to reverse. Second, it should not be possible for a person to look like this:
Since it only lasts a week or two, you tend to block it out.