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Speaking of language, have you ever noticed that autocorrect on your phone thinks it's a mind reader? I was texting my friend about a poultry recipe, and autocorrect decided to change "chicken" to "chirp" – because apparently, my phone thinks I'm planning a dinner with a side of bird songs.
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I recently realized that grocery shopping is like navigating through a poultry-themed obstacle course. You've got chickens in one aisle, ducks in the next, and the turkey blocking the frozen foods. It's like playing a game of "Fowl Play" just to get some eggs.
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You ever notice that swearing is like a secret society? You can be in the middle of a family dinner, and someone drops a curse word, and suddenly it's like you're both part of this underground club. You exchange that quick glance like, "Ah, you speak the fowl language too!
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You ever notice how escalators can make you question your entire existence? You stand there, and suddenly, you're being carried up or down without any effort. It's like a magical staircase. I always wonder, "Is this how birds feel when they're riding the wind currents?
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I recently discovered that my refrigerator has trust issues. Every time I open the door, it starts beeping at me, like it's saying, "I trusted you not to let the cold air escape, and here you are, rummaging for a midnight snack again." My fridge needs therapy.
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Why do we call it a "hot water heater"? I mean, if the water is already hot, why do we need to heat it? It's like having a fowl language translator that only works for birds who speak French – completely unnecessary, but hey, it's there just in case.
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You know, I've been trying to teach my pet parrot some new phrases, but every time I leave the room, it starts squawking like a sailor. I didn't know I adopted a foul-mouthed feathered friend. I guess my parrot has been watching too many R-rated movies.
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I tried to have a serious conversation with my alarm clock the other day. You know, tell it to stop waking me up so early. But no matter how politely I asked, all it did was respond with this annoying beep, like it was telling me, "Sorry, I only speak alarmingly loud.
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Why is it that we always apologize to inanimate objects when we bump into them? I walked into a door the other day and found myself saying, "Oops, sorry!" as if the door would reply, "No problem, human. Watch your fowl steps next time.
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Have you ever noticed that ducks seem to have their own secret language? I was at the pond the other day, and these ducks were quacking away like they were discussing the meaning of life. I tried to join in, but they just gave me this judgmental look, like, "Who invited the human to the quack party?
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