| 11~26~99 Every consecutive year the turkeys get me higher. I blame it on the inbreeding. Soon turkey meat will be 10% tryptophan making it an illegal narcotic. It's not even noon and I've already scarfed a full plate of leftovers. My eyes reddening and narrowing to slits as I type, the signs of imminent stoned-hood. "It's legal; it's turkey!" should read the billboards showing a stoned hippie tangling with a turkey leg and flipping us the sign of peace. Oh, already my html is going tryptophatic: <turkey border="4" cellpudding="3" cellstuffing="4">. The after math signs of Thanksgiving feasts are everywhere in North Hollywood. Llama carcasses litter the streets, putrefying under the hot sun... Note: Mexicans do not eat llamas for thanksgiving or any other holidays. Everyone knows that, and I know that. Yesterday's comments about the kindly latino folks consumption of llamas was not meant to be taken seriously. Some people have even said that comments like the ones made yesterday concerning the voracious appetite chicanos possess for the succulent roasted flesh of the aforementioned domesticated beast could be construed as racist. In no way were the comments meant to be hurtful to the people or country of Mexico or their brethren north of the border or abroad anywhere else. Besides, William Randolf Hearst made it perfectly clear that Hispanics are non-llama eating cannibals with a taste for the then burgeoning white middle-class. Thank-you. The after math signs of Thanksgiving feasts are everywhere in North Hollywood. White middle-class carcasses litter the streets, putrefying under the hot sun... Note: Hearst was a llama fisting, public masturbater who controlled the minds of America. May all his descendants be kidnapped by ill-organized political groups, held prisoner, raped and enjoy it.
I do not mourn the passing of Thanksgiving. The last one of the 1900's has come and gone. All who supped here where sated. I managed to comedown with a stomache, toothache and backache immediately upon dinners completion. I have individual theories accounting for the origin of each ache so I never once panicked and proclaimed that the stuffing had been laced with arsenic, strychnine and cyanide. An announcement like that would have had no place over a dinner table host to several known hypochondriacs as it was. For some reason, as the meal began, I was proclaimed to be the man of the house and placed in charge of carving the bird. With no clue what to do, I hacked away layers of juicy poultry from the sides of the formerly feathered creature and piled them neatly, in sedimentary fashion, upon a plate. They were some skilled slits, I say. |