After the jump, a look at everything I'm thankful for. Click here or here or I'ma put a CAP IN YOUR ASS, GRANDMA:
Over the Missouri River and through Corporate Woods, to grandmother's house with an air rifle we go: Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, y'all, the day we express culinary gratitude for our (YOUR) fat, American groin-eclipsing guts by sliding a variety of mayonnaise-lubricated carbohydrates through our alimentary tracts and then wondering why we get so sleepy after dinner. Hint: It ain't the mythical "triptophan" alleged to be gushing through the bones of turkeys. It's actually just the sugar crash that accompanies the traditional celebratory insulin spike your pancreas fires off on the fourth Thursday of every November, and, face it, every other goddamn day of the year. Will it be your last triumphant glucose uptake before your pancreas explodes, like a battery in a pizza oven? Or is it good for another year? Another meal? It's just like a time bomb. DON'T CUT THE RED WIRE! BOOM! Now you're Wilford Brimley! Jesus, you guys, ever heard of "vegetables?"
Anyway, it's not like I don't know that I've been fortunate, and I am grateful for all my blessings and whatnot, so here is my traditional annual list of Thanksgiving acknowledgments:
I'm also thankful for my mom and dad, President-Elect Barack Obama, and a little document by America's founding fathers called the Surface Mining Control and Reclamation Act of 1977 that gave us all our freedoms and created a program for reclaiming abandoned mine lands.
-- By Chris Packham
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Seriously.
You didn't eat the puppy?
Oh, well...
Happy Chakakahn to you, Amy & Li'l Princess Blood Feast any way.
Eat dessert first, you may die before you get to it otherwise. Good advice, leave the vegetables for the vegans, poor souls.
The morning swim at the Cliff Drive Lagoon invigorates one like a raw bear gall bladder.