Dear people....
Seriously, get with real life. I have chickens. Most of my chickens lay eggs or will lay eggs. Some of my chickens do not lay eggs because they are roosters. I don't like freeloaders in my life, therefore, those chickens will be my dinner. When my hens don't lay eggs anymore, they too will probably be dinner.
I am not a potential serial killer because I take care of my own dinner, from raising to plate. My child will not be scarred for life from learning where her food comes from. If that were true, all of your grand parents and great grand parents would be serial killers or would have starved.
I'm fine with the fact that you MUST have your meat packed in cellophane before you can even think about eating it, fresh from the supermarket factory in the back
I'm ok with your notion that the only chicken that you can possibly eat is boneless, skinless breast packed with 10% "juices".
I promise I'm not going to come after you and yours with a butcher knife. I promise I won't slip some delicious, home grown, flavorful chicken into any work "food day" dishes without warning.
For the love of all that's good, get a clue on where you food comes from. *I* should be the one giving you stinkeye for your support of cruel and unusual practices.
Sincerely,
Me
I know I should know better, but oh well.
Seriously, get with real life. I have chickens. Most of my chickens lay eggs or will lay eggs. Some of my chickens do not lay eggs because they are roosters. I don't like freeloaders in my life, therefore, those chickens will be my dinner. When my hens don't lay eggs anymore, they too will probably be dinner.
I am not a potential serial killer because I take care of my own dinner, from raising to plate. My child will not be scarred for life from learning where her food comes from. If that were true, all of your grand parents and great grand parents would be serial killers or would have starved.
I'm fine with the fact that you MUST have your meat packed in cellophane before you can even think about eating it, fresh from the supermarket factory in the back

I promise I'm not going to come after you and yours with a butcher knife. I promise I won't slip some delicious, home grown, flavorful chicken into any work "food day" dishes without warning.
For the love of all that's good, get a clue on where you food comes from. *I* should be the one giving you stinkeye for your support of cruel and unusual practices.
Sincerely,
Me
I know I should know better, but oh well.