Who Is This Red Hook Chicken Guy?

See? Chickens are fun to hold!

My name is Jason Stroud, and there are two things I have done consistently throughout my nearly 44 years: 1) lived in cities; 2) raised chickens in those cities. Los Angeles, Paris, New York–wherever I’ve lived, I’ve built coops and raised chickens.

Why? Chickens–hens, specifically–are the easiest and most productive pets in the world. I sell chickens (raising them from the time they’re hatched); I build urban- and chicken-friendly coops; I sell healthy chicken feed; and I’ll give you as much advice as you can handle.

I live in Red Hook, Brooklyn–where I also run an antiques restoration business and sell furniture–along with my wife (the writer and blogger of ), our three children, two dogs, and a parrot.

About brokeassgrouch

I'm goddamned broke and grouchy. I live in the middle of the damned ghetto and raise chickens for eggs; grow all my own vegetables and fruit; bake the bread and make the cleaning products. Why? Because I fucking have to, that's why! That's what you do when you're fucking poor! You have to make the shit yourself, dumb-ass! Broke-Ass Grouch is sick of all you Bennington and RISD trustafarians yapping about your "urban farming co-ops" and your "carbon conscious lifestyle" and your "green choices" in the Times Styles section and every alternapress periodical that you can pick up for free in every eye-wateringly expensive, edgy bakery or green-market. Maybe when you have a trust fund, you can make "choices" or have a "lifestyle" or "decide" how to "spend" your "money." Excuse me, but Mama is just trying to feed her kids over here, you little shits. And stop spraying your art-school graffiti on the fence of the vacant lot across the street from my house. I know who you are, and I'm telling my friend Keith (who lives in the projects) that it was you who painted that cartoon of the African mask. So what can I tell you? I don't fucking know. I know a lot about being broke, sure as Bob's your fucking uncle. I know about how useless an Ivy League degree is when you're flat-ass broke. I know how to unclog a drain with baking soda and vinegar, and I know how to make my own CHEESE, for fuck's sake. You tell me.
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