There I was at my doctor’s office. I was seeing him about the goo that was growing between some of my toes. He sent it off for a culture. What happened after that is disgustedly amazing.

Case in point: the goo patch between my toes. I thought it was athlete’s foot. The doctor thought it was athlete’s foot. Turns out, it was history in the making: a sample of goo that became the immortal CSC line — Chain Saw Chicken cells.

Immortal means they don’t die. Ever. They just keep dividing, multiplying, taking up space like in-laws who forgot how to leave. You could drop them in a Petri dish in 1973, and in 2025, they’d still be at the party.

Now, you might have heard of another line like this: HeLa cells, taken from Henrietta Lacks without her consent in 1951. They became the backbone of modern medicine — used to develop the polio vaccine, cancer therapies, gene mapping, you name it. That poor woman’s tumor cells outlived her by decades and made billions for other people.

Well, congratulations, ...

The boldest move I’ve made in the name of ALDI was volunteering Chainsaw Chicken — my satirical alter ego — as a free box boy for seniors at checkout. Anyone who shops at ALDI knows the rhythm: the cashier scans with lightning speed while customers scramble to bag their own groceries. Most people see that as pressure. I saw it as a chance to give back.

One afternoon, I stationed myself at the end of a checkout lane with an empty Aldi box and a heroic sense of purpose. The cashier fired items across the counter faster than I could keep up, while Chainsaw Chicken — a man in a yellow latex chicken mask — packed with painstaking care. He was slow, clumsy, but determined. The older customer smiled at the effort, grateful for the help. The cashier, however, looked like she was witnessing a one-man traffic jam.

That scene captures my Aldi loyalty. It isn’t just about bargains or efficiency — it’s about showing up, adding heart, and making the experience unforgettable. I’ve...

I was just leisurely walking around my neighborhood.

“What a wonderful day,” I said out loud, enjoying the warm spring sunshine as it warmed my beak.

As I passed the house of the neighbor I don’t get along with—the one who lets his many cats roam freely—I glanced at the kids’ sandbox.

To my surprise, the usual “kitty biscuits” (the kind cats leave behind) seemed to be arranged in a message. The closer I got, the clearer it became. What a strangely artistic formation of… ah… cat turds. Then it hit me—I could read what it said! At first, I thought it was just a political statement expressing someone’s opinion… until I saw my logo decal!

I took a picture, intending to post it on social media. But given the recent “stink” over a similar (and equally innocent) incident, I decided to share it only with my loyal followers.

Before leaving, I mixed up the bio-deposits, leaving them in the sand so the kids could play undisturbed.

I wonder… did my neighbor ...