PETTING THE TURKEYS

Good lord, the holiday season is upon us! Halloween was last week, Thanksgiving is a mere three weeks away. And pretty soon it will be Christmas. Followed by New Year, then Valentine's Day.
All of which mean nothing to me.

Haven't had a Thanksgiving in aeons. The Christmas Season has been a major drag in just as long, with far too short an interruption for good seafood and excellent company. New Year's Eve brings out the party monsters. Valentine's is a disaster.


This blogger can barely wait till mid-spring.


I may be the only one



All over town merchants are already anxiously fondling their Christmas ornaments. They want the madness to commence, and the foaming, and some may jump the gun. Bah humbug.

I'm off on Thanksgiving day, but I shall be working on Black Friday.
In a field where there are no deals and no one will line up.

We do not cater to kiddie-winkies, thank heavens.


However, desperate middle-aged men, as well as reprieved turkeys, may seek shelter and solace within the precincts, to share pizza and horror stories while watching a game. I would imagine that they will look at each other with mutual suspicion, till about half-way through their first cigar or second bottle of whiskey (or 32 ounce bubbly softdrink from the nearest McGarbage Hut). Mumbling and mutters will give way to collective hoots at the prowess of men in spandex booties trotting across the screen.

Never give turkeys booze. They distrust your motives when you do that.
And start looking for the axe.

Or pooping on the barcalounger.


Bah humbug.




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