On Monday night, Amy hankered for some wings. I have never been a big fan of wings myself. I dislike dark meat, tendons, skin, and bones. I had only had Amy’s homemade wings before and while I loved her sauce, I disliked the vehicle for it. Besides, I find it objectionable to be maiming those poor animals for my (not even) eating pleasure.

It seems like my good friend Crickie is eating them every other day and Amy had recently been raving to me about the wings at Wing Stop since she had started eating them during occasional evening get togethers with a co-worker couple.

Boneless chicken wings (that is, chicken nuggets) are commonplace at wing joints, so I figured I could try some, and Amy would be able to get her wing fix.

Unfortunately, we weren’t so into them that we were willing to actually go out and get them, so we decided to try Wing Street, and have them conveniently delivered. My part of the order was twenty pieces of boneless Buffalo Burnin’ Hot wings. I figured that if I was going to try these wing things, I might as well dive into the deep end of the lava pit.

They were extremely good with an excellent flavor (a sweet fruity habanero middle flavor, followed by delicious cumulative burn to finish off), and quite filling (much more so than bone-in wings). I got through ten wings and consigned the rest to leftovers for dinner the next evening.

On the drive home from work on Tuesday, I was looking forward to my left over wings. Unfortunately our house was embroiled in a black out that evening (see The Dickhead Chevrolet Blazer Of Household Air Conditioning), and had no way of heating up the left over chicken wings.

However, we did not want to be disappointed by an absence of wings in our evening meal, and with the house being unpleasantly absent of electrical power, we decided to go and find the nearest Wing Stop.

My order this time consisted of seven pieces of their boneless Atomic wings (again jumping straight into the deep end). These wings were incredible. They taste very peppery, and their heat level starts at “over the top” and gets even hotter with each successive wing, until you bow down to the pleadings of your mouth, lips, and upper throat.

I got through four.

I was also impressed with the size of these wings: they were more often than not like chicken tenders than nuggets.

They did however F me the hell up the next morning This really, if you are a hot and spicy food fan, you realize is just part of the price you pay when you eat this food. Sort of like a hidden tax. In the morning I woke up and felt a steam train of pain rushing through my lowerins (lower intestines), and I correctly guessed that I would not experience “re-entry” until I was on the way to work.

Luckily, the bathroom of a handy Jack-in-the-Box was unoccupied.

For those of you keeping up with the math, I still had ten Buffalo Burnin’ Hot wings and three (actually turned out to be four) Atomic wings left over.

That is where dinner for Wednesday came in. I still did not make it through them all. However, I refused to leave the house for work on Thursday morning until I knew that it was safe to do so.

Now it is Friday evening, and as I write this, I find myself faced with four Buffalo Burnin’ Hots and two Atomics.

I am digging in with glee.

I highly recommend that you try either Wing Street’s Buffalo Burnin’ Hot wings or Wing Stop’s Atomic wings. Go boneless. They are more filling and the do not leave a poor chicken disabled and unable to provide for its little chicken family.

Now if you will excuse me, I have got to go finish breaking apart my insides.

Thanks for stopping by and remember, its no fun getting screwed while everyone else is getting laid.