KFC has gone and done it again. The Colonel messed around and effectively changed prom night forever.
It goes without saying that I'm super jealous. Borderline seething. I'd be lying to you if I didn't say that I almost threw my cell phone across the room when I read this story. Why do these kids get to chew original recipe chicken off their dates' wrists when I couldn't?
This is going to become my version of "back in my day, I had to walk 10 miles to school" except it'll be the fat person version. Drugs, alcohol, sex? Nah. The only prom advise that I'm dealing out will have to do with "grilled vs. original recipe" and what kind of dipping sauce you need to go with. I'm going to be an awful awesome dad.
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