Sometimes There’s a Man. A Tender Man. A Chicken Tender Man, That Is.
This young man with the myopic Jesus haircut/glasses combo and the assistant manager of a Wendy’s fashion sense is the hero these times need, if not the hero these times wanted. He’s making his bones early in politics, so to speak. He’s one of those fabulous few who can convince an audience that he’s totally right, and be totally ignored anyway. I agree. Let’s stop calling chicken tenders “boneless chicken wings.” And if you ask me, we should call drumsticks “fowl-aplegic meat” instead. That’s an example of why no one ever asks me anything.
(Thanks to the estimable Charles Schneider for sending that one along)