Sueñoteamor has a problem lately. This problem is not school-related, boy-related, or even family-related.
It is stomach-related.
It is chicken.
It’s been a few months now that we’ve really started listening to SHINee. At first, all was well. I was busy fangirling over Jjong, she was busy drooling over Key, there was much Lucifer played and replayed (pun intended), and everyone was happy.
However, at some point, we started finding macros of Onew, all having to do with chicken. We didn’t know what was going on, but we found it entertaining. Then, one of us came across the Mexicana CF, and behold! we were enlightened.
Scary things began happening after this point. Sueñoteamor began talking about chicken – a lot. Chicken parmesan, chicken pasta, Cornish hens, fried chicken – everything came back to this marvelous bird. Normal conversations on Skype and in physics class would be derailed by chicken allusions. As the weeks passed, the chicken craze spread to both me and our friendly neighborhood E.L.F.
(life when dinner does not include chicken)
There is no escaping the craving anymore. I want chicken for breakfast, for snacks, when I wake up hungry at 4 in the morning. Oh, Onew, I can’t decide whether I want to bitchslap you or take you to KFC for an eating contest.