Did I mention to you guys and gals that I’m a chicken?

Ok, so hareega dared me to answer some questions, tough questions, and I gotta admit it, I am a chicken, not even a rooster, yep, just a plain old chicken. Dude, hareega, I have to chicken out, and this is not because I’m scared of the questions, but dude, I’m a married man, and married men in america do fear their wives. Right? Come on guys, say yes, don’t leave me hanging alone in the dark. Will someone please say "your right bo3bo3"? damn it, your no good guys.
Although I am a chicken in many occasions, but I love to flirt with the red lines, only with limitations. I think that there is an art for such actions, and correct me if I’m wrong.
For example, you can say things that are out of those lines, but you say them in the right manner. Manner like leaving the reader understand what your trying to say, but without leaving him/her with any proof that this is what you meant. Similar to the art of bala gafyeh. You always leave the reader convinced that you meant the "gafyeh part", yet, you didn’t give him/her a clear indication, or any criminating statement that may incriminate you.
I told you it’s an art, a wicked art it is.
So hareega dude, I confess, puck puck puckeeeeeeeek.