Somewhere, The Colonel Is Pissed.

Kentucky Grilled Chicken? Really? Let's forget the stupid slogan, "Unthink." Let's forget the knuckleheadedness (Hey, if they can make up a word so can I.) of knocking what you do best. Why can't people just stick with what they know? Dammit, there is still a place in this world for artery clogging, deep fried, grease dripping, extra crispy chicken skin. You guys are still going to sell plenty of buckets because, trust me, fat guys everywhere are working very hard to NOT unthink. You want to serve a new product? Keep the chicken and the bones and sell me a bucket of extra crispy skin. KFS!

After weeks of being bombarded with the ads and hearing one positive testimonial from a friend, I caved and bought a ten piece bucket of KGC. My mistake. Well, first, let me list the positive. I expected the grill marks to be painted on, as fake as the yellow cheese color of the mac & cheese. Much to my surprise, the grill marks appear to be real. The negatives? Still greasy (which maybe in this argument I should list as a positive), bland tasting (maybe all the finger-lickin' flavor is in the frying oil) and apparently their new grill shrinks the chicken. Seriously, these were the dinkiest pieces of chicken I have ever been served. Kate Moss, at her coke-addled worst, had more meat on her bones than did any of these ten pieces. The breasts (the chicken's not Kate Moss's) were the size of normal thighs, the thighs were the size of normal wings and I'd prefer the drumsticks be larger than the average drummette you get as buffalo wings. The bucket was half empty. Just like my head must have been when I decided to purchase the stuff in the first place.