Monday, September 12, 2011

An Ode to the beautiful Gus's Chicken in Memphis, Tennessee.

I was feeling rather sickly.
The back of my throat was tickly.
I'd vommed in the morning
With very little warning
My skin had become rather prickly.

I needed something to eat.
I hoped it'd make me feel complete.
We hopped in the car
Because Gus's wasn't far
And then we took a seat.

The place isn't much of a sight.
I just needed one greasy bite.
A mouthful of chicken
and my heart started tickin'.
I knew I'd be alright.

The skin was so spicy and crispy.
My speech nearly became quite lispy.
My appetite was so sated
I felt downright elated

It's not a perfect poem, but then I never claimed to be a poet. Until I tasted Gus'. Holy hell. I will dream of this chicken until I can put it in my mouth again. Next time...I'm doing a half-chicken. WATCH ME.

For those of you who might be fried chicken fans, here is the place you MUST visit:

Waits can be long, so grab a 40 (-ounce beer, duh) and wait patiently. It will all be worth it, I promise.

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