Chicken Fights On Land Are A Whole Other Animal

Nobody appreciates a good chicken fight more than me. I love them on a variety of different platforms as well.

In my day, chicken fights happened on two playing surfaces. They either took place in the water or on the monkey bars. I loved both spots.

In the water, you could damn near drown someone which always feels hilarious. They come up all blue and gasping for breath and shit. Classic. Ole Blueberry Head Ass.

“Hey Carl, you fuckin pipsqueak. Come for the bull and you’ll get the horns, bubba. Now sit on the side of the pool before you get a cramp. What a bum.”

I used getting a cramp as a joke there but, in all seriousness, please take water cramps seriously. Safety is paramount during aquatic activities and whathaveyou. Take a break; it could save your life. I’m sure as fuck glad Carl took a break. He was one of my best friends and I would have felt terrible if something happened to him on account of my teasing.

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Love you, Carl. You know that.

Anyway, I also loved monkey bar chicken fights. You could wrap your leg around your buddies waist and squeeze him like an anaconda. Eventually, the weight would be too much and he’d end up letting go. You’re the victor. Again.

I never played land chicken fights like these ladies, though. Swinging actual fists? Danger!

You land one solid shot to the chin and your chicken partner can fall off her steed and break her damn face open. Not good. I think the fellas who are carrying the ladies always underestimate the core strength needed to be a chicken fight base. In the water, you can dip down, get your base back, and stand up again. On land, if you slip, Becky’s coochie is pile driving your nose and teeth into the dirt. Yikes.

Be careful out there, friends. Drink responsibly but, if you don’t, tag us in the Instagram videos.