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



--------------------------------------

"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?

Comments

Jill said…
Hee hee - Cuteness!

Happy Thanksgiving back at ya!
5:26 PM
Azathoth100 said…
Happy Dead Turkey Day! Eat till you have stuffing coming out your ears!
7:17 PM
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!
9:39 PM
Anonymous said…
Heh, Carlin is funny. Happy american thanksgiving (us Canucks get ours in October).
6:00 PM
Todd Camplin said…
Happy Turkey day. Such a fun post.
11:53 PM
Anonymous said…
To you too. I know I'm late.

Nice pic.
3:02 AM
V said…
THANKS to all for your always kind words! Hope you all had a wonderful holiday!
9:49 PM
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