Every fiber of my soul tells me to use a throwaway .Every.single.One Chicken. It's what for Dinner. Or, at least that was the plan. The house sat alone, cold quiet and dark. I saw it in the distance as the school bus churned its way down the road and deposited my 11yo self by the steps of the much nicer house next door. I barely took notice of the skies darkening with thick clouds taunting everyone else with the chance of rain. No my friends, the only thing I fixated my gaze on was the empty driveway. My parents had gone fishing. I smiled through my clenched teeth and thoughtfully patted my penis. We were about to embark on a journey together like no other. The last day of innocence. I was an innocent boy until I walked into that kitchen and was forever changed. I promise you this. When I opened the refrigerator door to fuel up before game time I never intended my hormones to duel with my sense of logic in a quick second battle that surely resulted in the death of my common sense

⢸⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⡷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠢⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠈⠑⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Are you winning son?
⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠖⠒⠒⠒⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⠀⠀⣀⢤⣼⣀⡠⠤⠤⠼⠤⡄⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⠀⠀⠑⡤⠤⡒⠒⠒⡊⠙⡏⠀⢀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠢⡄⠀
⢸⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⢀⠧⠟⠁⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀
⢸⠀⠀⠀⠸⣀⠀⠀⠈⢉⠟⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸
⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢱⡖⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸