Apparently, I shouldn't cook

I made chicken last night; some kind of frozen mandarin chicken from President’s Choice, because there is nothing that PC can’t make (except for plastic wrap). Andrea didn’t eat, because she’d had a big lunch.

Unfortunately, I managed to poison myself. Those of you who follow my blog—all one or two of you—will remember that the last time I poisoned myself, it was also on chicken. (I would normally put a link here, to the previous blog entry from when I poisoned myself, but a quick search didn’t turn up the post, so I won’t.)

It looked cooked, but halfway through I noticed that it was kind of soggy, and when I looked, it turned out that big huge pieces of the chicken weren’t cooked at all. I don’t think I ate too much of it, though, so I’m still alive today.

Luckily for you, because if I was dead, you wouldn’t have this blog entry to read.