Generally speaking my choice in food is fairly healthy… but my one real weakness is the chooks bum… parson’s nose…sultan’s nose …pope’s nose (or “pygostyle” to be formal).
Call it what you will …there is nothing better that that tender juicy (and oh so fatty) little bulge at the chooks vents. …. as long as it is extra well cooked and crunchy on the outside.
BUT I have a problem….
…you see, the local BBQ chicken store seems to lose a lot of bums. I have no idea where they go ( UNLESS there is someone in the shop that loves them too …and perhaps helps them to fall off during the rotisserie process). 
It’s become so ridiculous that I now ask for a BBQ Chicken “with a bum.. please”.
This odd request is made even more amusing given my vocal challenge… 99% of the time I am asked to repeat myself…but I never know if it is difficulty understanding me or understanding why I would be making such an odd request.
I know that they are not good for me … but it’s one small indulgence, that is not only tasty, but somehow provides a degree of illicit amusement. They never ever make it all the way home without being eaten in the solitude of my car (but shhhhh… don’t tell anyone)
Wonder Years 