November 25, 2004

Happy Thanksgiving from the LLamabutchers!

pizza with giblets.jpg

I loved the Fusco Brothers---it's their humor, even more than the odor of Bill the Cat, that has soaked into the shag carpet adorning LLama Manor.

However, THIS is the greatest Thanksgiving gag of all time: "I thought turkeys could fly!"

Something more serious to cleanse the pallet? Annika's good not only for MNF picks and anti-Helen Hunt tirades, she's also good for poetry. Here's today's classic. Visions of a disembodied Brain, floating in a large glass vat of translucent goo, mixing up some Thanksgiving goodies? Sure, why not----The Brain is on a roll as of late. I would say "Read and scroll, baby" but I don't feel like paying Steve Green 5 cents. And avant guard menus? Rae, of course. And, shiver me timbers, but Kathleen is talking about basting....which is definitely a NSFW type posting (if you work at a tofurkey plant, I guess). And my answer to THIS? For the love of Gawhd, no. But what a drumstick.... Sarah at Trying to Grok has some serious and joyful things to be thankful for to put it all in perspective for us civilians. Me? I'm thankful that THIS jackass isn't my boss (not Stephen, the principal). And thanks back at ya, buddy.

What the.....? Definitely NSFW in the tofurkey plant.

And last but not least, do not forget Jeff at Beautiful Atrocities on this our annual Thanksgiving Day. Remember the scene in It's a Wonderful Life where the bridge keeper is sitting in his little room by the drawbridge, drinking whiskey out of a big jug while warming his butt next to the pot-bellied stove? Think that, in color, with wifi. And maybe a little tee-vee to get Days of our Lives.

Thanks for coming by, and for making the LLamabutchers the outlet which it is for me.

Posted by Steve at November 25, 2004 11:54 AM | TrackBack

Me at my local grocery store in the meat department: "Can you please tell me which of these cuts is similar to an arm roast?"

Man in white jacket: "Yeah, you want da tri-tip."

Me, noticing his name tag: "Your name is Sal? Is that short for Saluarducci?"

Sal: "Yeah. I'm Italian."

Me: "What's an Italian doing in Utah?"

Sal: "Hiding."

Sal laughs. I watch Sal walk away. With a limp in his left knee.

This year I am thankful for all the laughter I have experienced and listened to, and Sal was one of those good laughs.

Posted by: Rae at November 25, 2004 10:54 PM
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