Internet, meet my dinner. Dinner, say hello:
As I was trolling the ghetto Food Lion yesterday for dinner ideas, I came across whole young chickens on sale. Bingo! A few potatoes and some green beans later, I had a meal plan. Unfortunately for the chicken, he had yet a few more indignities to suffer before retiring to the cleansing retreat of a 350 degree oven.
First, since I bought him at 2:30 and I was determined to eat dinner by 8:00, I quick-thawed him in some warm water until I could pry his legs apart and pull out the neck/gizzards/other disgusting organs I cannot name from his body cavity. Guts disposed of, I mounted him on an upright chicken roaster and rubbed him down with olive oil, black pepper, sea salt, and cayenne pepper, paying special attention to his underarms.
At the suggestion of a neighbor, I decided to give the beer can method of chicken roasting a shot. I opened a beer, poked some holes in the can, poured about half of it out, and sat the chicken down on the beer can. The chicken looked kind of uncomfortable.
Now, for a gratuitous picture of the boys.