Ah, yes, the extra special holiday that celebrates the noble white Protestants beginning the process of accepting back this wonderful landmass which those pesky indigenous peoples were keeping warm for us. Hilarious events in
Oh yeah, and Sloth. Sloth is good too. Maybe my fourth favorite.
Eating is awesome. Some people may incorrectly assume that I don’t really enjoy it that much, since I seem to do it less than I should. But hey, this looks like a pretty happy guy, right?
Minutes later, I would forget about the orange fingertips and rub my eyes. Happens every time.
Tomorrow I'm headed back to Central New York, away from this city and its production of 'How the Lazy Stagehands Stole Christmas." It’s going to be nice to get back to good old Whitesboro, where they really know what Thanksgiving is all about.
An oldie, but a goodie.
No, no, we’ve been over this. The food, man, the food.
The Revs do it right. Though unfortunately attendance is predicted to be somewhat low at the Rev Thanksgiving, I’m sure there’s going to be gorging and falling asleep by the fireplace. Indeed, if all goes well, it's going to be an honest to goodness pattern of behavior.
Last Thanksgiving was quite infamous, and set the bar pretty high as far as plenty goes. Apparently, we decided that one turkey was simply not enough too much food. To that end, my Mother prepared the traditional roast turkey in the oven, whilst my Father oversaw the deep-frying of a second bird in the back yard. Behold and salivate:I'm sorry, I've looked all over the place and I just can't find my picture of Double Turkey '06. I'm going to have to post it from the W'Boro. It's something, trust me.
To convince myself I've truly earned the privilege of breaking out my trusty Turkey-and-pie Funnel, I believe I'm going to take part in something called a Turkey Trot.
A more accurate title for it would be the Turkey arduous mile and a half trek up a rather steep hill, past the woods in which Honus was sexually propositioned while "looking for mushrooms" and to the top of the Ski Hill which exists in the center of Utica.
I swear, for the majority of my life I never thought that having this within city limits was unusual.
Oh yes, I'm going to have to jog back down the hill, too.
Would you like some whine with your Thanksgiving Turkey?
I'm going to go pack up some stuff in preparation for the journey tomorrow. One more thing, though. Ace sent me this picture from my recent trip to Buffalo. I like it. I call it "Rudely Interrupted Breakfast."
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.