Turkeys hiding in trees

Little known fact: I can speak turkey. Well really it is a form of Jive Turkey.

Gobblizzo my Nizzo.

Alright I can't really speak turkey. But I do like to eat turkey. Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I am excited. It is my first Thanksgiving as a father. From now on, I am the one who carves the turkey. Unfortunately we are having a Turkey Tenderloin. I didn't know they had tenderloins. Maybe if I spoke their language they could have told me. All the same, I'm going to carve it as if it were a real bird. Mmmm, turkey.

I love food, especially at Thanksgiving. I think my favorite thanksgiving food is pumpkin pie, with lots of whipped cream on top. It's amazing that I am not three hundred pounds. I bet Pixie would love that.

Boy, I am kinda rambling here. I was going to talk about the Native Americans, the pilgrims and the genocide of an entire nation, but I didn't want to offend any Christians out there.

Instead let's talk turkey facts.

Turkeys are not from Turkey as one might suspect. The modern "American" turkey that we all love and enjoy the fourth Thursday of every November is actually from northern Mexico.
Make sure your turkey has a green card.

Turkeys are practical jokers by nature. Their favorite trick is to sneak up on unsuspecting victims and slice their Achilles tendon. Not funny turkeys. Not funny.

I once had a pet turkey, his name was Gravy. I couldn't bear to eat him so I begged Mr. Lincoln to pardon him and then put him in the Turkey Protection Program. That is the true story behind the Presidential Pardoning of Turkey's.

Turkeys love to sleep around. Male Turkeys are called "Toms" or "Pimps". Female Turkeys are called "Hens", "Bitches", or sometimes "Ho's".

Turkeys can and do have heart attacks. Farmers would be wise to feed them cheerios to help lower their cholesterol.

It only takes fifteen months for a turkey to be considered mature. I'm 28 years old and still waiting.

For more fun turkey facts visit the Turkey Zealots of North America, or "Gobblers" as they like to be referred to.

I hope everyone has a great day of Thanks. I would like to end this blog transmission by saying what I am thankful for. I am thankful for my family, boobs, spatulas, origami, guitars, cheese (even the processed kind TF), Industrialization in the eighteenth century, florescent light bulbs, Macintosh computers, Sandra Boynton books, toenail clippers, outer space, inner light, toilet paper, music, the color blue and the letter H.

Gobble-dee-goo.

Over.

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I have spent all my free time tonight reading and commenting on other peoples posts and leaving myself no time to think of a post of my own. So here it is. An open post format. Ask me any question you would like. Any question at all and I will answer it for you. No matter how depraved or disgusting or humiliating the question, I will answer it. Whether the question is about me, the future of pork barrels, the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow, whatever. Don't hold back and don't be afraid. This all-knowing, all-seeing, Maharishi is at your service.

I will not however try to guess your weight. What is this, a freaking carnival?

Random Thoughts for Friday

Did I say Friday? I meant Saturday. I started writing this post seventeen hours ago and just sat back down to finish my rant.

First of all, congratulations to Al Gore on winning the Nobel Peace Prize. Apparently they hand it out if you cash in enough frequent-flyer miles. If you want to talk about global climate change being caused by man, well here is the man doing it. In fact, Bigfoot and Sheryl Crow should start a save the planet tour and call it the "Hey look at me. No really, look at me. I'm saving the planet by using all the resources before you stupid hoi polloi have a chance. So look at me. Please."

Am I the only one who is tired of having these hypocritical elitists' spewing on how the general public should conserve and recycle? I was conserving resources and practicing the three R's long before it became a designer trend. It's called being poor. But not only poor, having a conscience. Now all the sudden some billionaire decides to rouse the ignorant masses by saying the sky is falling and he is a hero?

Don't get me wrong I think that he is passionate about his cause. I admire the guy's gusto. He is trying to do what he thinks is right. Though what his cause exactly is and why he deserves what I thought was an eminent award I have no idea. I mean, how the hell is a fictional movie, based on skewed reality a benefit to humanity? I would further question the Swedes definition of Noble Laureate but I am reminded of Alfred and his gift to humanity. Let's all say it together (like Jimi Walker) "Dyn-O-Mite"!

Is the earth warming, probably. Has it done this before? Yes. Go to the other extreme and we have ice ages. Earth's climate changes. I have another inconvenient truth for you all; the sun is going to explode... in about a billion years. It's terminal. I guess that's our fault for not getting those spots checked.

So far as reactions to winning this once revered prize, this lady has it right.


Second, let me thank Mattel, China and the U.S for trying to kill us all with lead paint. Next time don't be a bunch of pantie-waists, use a lethal dose. Speaking of recalls, is it just the media creating and perpetuating hysteria through these "recall stories" or does no one know how to make a worthwhile product that won't cause cancer or kill us?

I blame the unions. The unions and the imperial capitalist pigs. Unions, imperial capitalist pigs, and Rosie O'Donnell. Yeah, that about covers that.


C, how is it that someone can buy a gun and think that it's a good idea to give it to their disgruntled son. Oh yeah, and junior, I have one word for you, "salad".

When I was younger, we settled each other's hash with a good old fashioned fist-a-cuffs after school; two guys beating the hell out of each other without the permanence of death or life in a psyche ward. I guess I am being a romantic, but those seemed like such simpler times.

Times when the Earth wasn't melting, and Rosie O'Donnell wasn't trying to poison us.

Trash Man

You let me down today. What happened? I thought we had an understanding? We had a symbiotic relationship. I would put my refuse on the curb every Tuesday morning. You would drive by with your buddies and throw the trash into the back of your truck. Everyone was happy.

Remember when I gave you that Wurlitzer Organ? You threw your back out trying to hoist it into the truck. You had to have two people help you load it. Remember how the only note it would make after you smashed it with your compressor was B flat? Those were good times. Why? Why did you forsake me? Was it something I said? Was it the overstuffed bags? The dirty diapers? The body parts?

This morning you only took two-thirds of my garbage. I left you three nice bags, not too heavy but not light enough to insult your manhood. Three perfect little bags. But you only thought two of them were good enough to haul to your magical trash kingdom. The third and smallest of the bags—I called him shorty— was still there when I left for work.
I was going to call you and inquire if you were alright, if maybe you were mad at me, but I decided to let you cool off for a while. You'll come back when you are ready.

Trash man, if you can hear me, I'm sorry. Please come back. We miss you.



Asshole.

Lend a helping hand

Before this week I had never heard of Lenticular Clouds, but they are quite fascinating. They seem to take unusual round and ribbon shapes. What a spectacular sight to behold—but how are these beautiful dihydrogen monoxide masses formed? What sets them apart from other clouds? Do we have to hate and fear them because they are different? I did a little research and the results were astounding:

• They are almost always found in the sky.

• Occasionally they can be seen at the Kewadin Casinos —where the serenity of nature and the materialistic deviance of Las Vegas elope.

• They have poor eyesight, but excellent hearing. However, they are horrible listeners.

• They startle easily and can be quite aggressive when threatened.

• They migrate thousands of miles each year to mate. After hours of grueling ankle grabbing they cry in the shower and then make the long trek back to their place of birth to lay their eggs.

• They get their majestic shapes and colors from jello molds and food coloring.

Unfortunately these magnificent freaks of suspended vapor are being threatened. It seems that the abundance of cell phone towers throughout the free world has caused the clouds to lose their sense of direction. The clouds have become torpid. They feel they have nothing to left to offer society. But with the help of good people in the Blogging community, not unlike yourself, we can fight to end their suffering and get them the necessary help they so deserve. Please do your part. Visit this site for more information on what you can do to help. Thank you.

I hope you all learned as much as I did. See you tomorrow boys and girls.