> Yeah, if you enjoy consuming massive quantities of turkey,
> stuffing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and lying about on the
> sofa like a beached whale watching American football. Did I
> forget to mention several days of turkey sandwiches afterwards?
> ;-)
I quiver with anticipation of this holiday all year, even though I
know it's a Franklin Commission conspiracy to elevate the Disrespected
Fowl to its rightful place in the pecking order of nationally
important birds. Ben was right about the gorgeous turkey, dripping in
its own goo, abnormally well-endowed but easily tricked into a
gape-mouthed, rain-stare suicide. Unfortunately, Ben was still
reeling from his kite "experiment" when he lost the slapfight to Tommy
J. so we get the eagle. But Ben has had the last laugh, hasn't he?
My one word of advice is to bring a small glass jar and an air-tight
lid with you to your in-laws. Use a sliced paper straw to collect the
tryptophan tears you will shed, belly taut, as you lament your
favorite team's annual embarrassing loss in front of a similarly dazed
and drooling national audience. Those tears, mixed with top eighth
inch of coagulated sheen from the marshallow saturated yams, should be
slow baked in Ron Popeil's greatest invention, the ST5000 Rotisserie
and BBQ for 12 hours. This concentrated elixer will then provide
haunting dreams of flightless squawking for months after the thrill of
mayo, breast (turkey) and dough have subsided, and your body has
become ever more craving of the "turkey trip". Two drops under your
tongue, a cranberry up each nostril, and it's seven hours of non-stop
slow motion gobbling. Purer joy cannot be known.
pardon-me-ly y'rs, -frank
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