Chicken is my Enemy

The cold sweat, the shakes, the utter lack of control over what comes out of your asshole... You all know what I'm talking about: Food Poisoning. The basic premise of cooking chicken is that you make damn sure it's cooked inside and out, in order to avoid having one of your patrons go home with a biological time bomb in their stomach. At about 2:10am central time, the bomb went off. When it was all said and done, the offending poultry cost me 10 hours of my body "clensing" itself, a horrid ride in the jumpseat of an MD80, a visit to the ER to have fluids replenished by IV, and $13. Just like during a hangover, I promised God I would never eat chicken again...