Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Crying Fowl


Man, isn't that idyllic.


I like this picture for its mixture of turkeyscat pseudo-history
and potential for inventive captioning.

Pilgrim Matron: Well, that makes sense! Dark meat for thee!
Pilgrim Padre: (thinking to self) O, when shall the festivities make way for the after-feasting footy?


King Lear (beruffed): I scent a treason and turning against upon the winds.
Earl of Kent: I shall eat no fish. The venison smells sweet, however.
Miles: Priscilla, I lay awake last eve with thoughts of thy sweet corn pudding!
Priscilla: Mind your countenance, Miles!
I mayn't stand closer than two feet to thee -- our elders
condemn the wicked thoughts of handholding such proximity shall produce!
Etc... Please! Add thy own!


But most importantly, know that I am thankful for each of thee, dear blogpals,
and PLEASE,
enjoy thy feasting and football, and have a



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"You ever notice you never seem to get laid much on Thanksgiving? I think it's because all the coats are on the bed." -- George Carlin

The real Thanksgiving story?

7 comments:

random moments said...

Hee hee - Cuteness!

Happy Thanksgiving back at ya!

Azathoth100 said...

Happy Dead Turkey Day! Eat till you have stuffing coming out your ears!

sevnetus said...

Used to be, you could find a spare room and go at it, yes that's a party. Coats on the bed, ok make room. Go Ask Erin!

Trevor Record said...

Heh, Carlin is funny. Happy american thanksgiving (us Canucks get ours in October).

Camplin said...

Happy Turkey day. Such a fun post.

Lightning Bug's Butt said...

To you too. I know I'm late.

Nice pic.

Ari said...

THANKS to all for your always kind words! Hope you all had a wonderful holiday!

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