Wait ‘til next year … from “Dread to “Partee!”

Another Thanksgiving dinner survived … a mega event enhanced by our steroidal political atmosphere … the state of the National Football League … and the use of the “I-word” … Impeachment.

We owe our Thanksgiving celebration to that intrepid group of Mayflowerian Separatists … who celebrated surviving their first year in the “New World” with three days of “Pilgrim Fun” … no wife swapping, drugs or alcohol … a real “Yuck Fest.”

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But fear not Thanksgiving Loyalists … you impish fun loving pie bakers and flash fried turkey arsonists.  The 21st century version of Thanksgiving’s Hardy Partiers is here to “elevate” your plans for 2020’s feast!

We’ve got the latest “plant based food enhancer” to change yesteryear’s “prayer-filled-puritan-heritage-three-day-dirge” into a wild-and-wooly Wilford Brimley “You-want-me-to-do-what-to-your-turkey?” Bacchanal Feast.

Don’t just “lace-up” that turkey for baking … “lace” that turkey, all the side dishes, desserts and beverages with the best in legal home grown American 100% certified red-white-and-blue … Pot!

Wow … you’ve just turned your 3-Day Dirge into a “Wheee-It’s-a-Three-Day-Parteee!”

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Don’t bother checking mags like “Saveur” or “Food and Wine” for next year’s recipes.

Go to “Doctor Google” … type in “best pot laced Thanksgiving recipes” and scroll through 1.6 million “Doped Turkey Day” options.

Since the best properties of your pot are released when it’s “warmed” … and there are absolutely no dishes served at Thanksgiving that are not butter laden … you can insure a successful “Everybody-gets-along-and-even-likes-football-Stoner-Turkey-Day” by starting with … “I Can’t believe it’s Pot Butter.”

Make a really huge batch and slather it everywhere you see any food … be sure to have mountain sized portions at each place setting!

And you’ll need to purchase pick-up truck loads of those little warm-up-dinner-rolls … yummy-yummy-in-my-munchy-craving-tummy!

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As for the “Big Bird” … use the Butter Ball concept and pack that Sumbitch with your Pot Butter … inside … outside … and for good measure toss a fistful of prime buds into the cavity!

Dessert?  Who’s got room for dessert?

We all do … if we harken back to our Hippie Days and resurrect the one-and-only-tried-and-true Alice B. Toklas’ “Alice’s Restaurant pot brownies.”

Take it from Wilford … it’ll give a whole new meaning to “Pot Luck!”

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Just sayin’ …

 

Astro Turkey … Your Turkey Horoscope

Thanksgiving’s right around the corner … and some folks plan their Thanksgiving dinner based on Astrology.

I think that’s pretty cool … but what’s more cool?

Base the center piece of your Thanksgiving feast-meal on the astrological sign of your gobbler.

I mean … C’mon Man … the star of the show’s the Big Bird in the center of the table!  Who serves Thanksgiving fish … or beef … or Mac’n’Cheese?

It’s all about the bird … and if you want that astrological boost in your life … choose your turkey based on its astro-sign … its “born-on-date.”

Eat your sign … get a perfect match astrologically speaking … it’s all about your Big Bird!

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ARIES … the Ram … Your bird was driven, ambitious and curious … uhoh!  This bird loved being placed in leadership positions.  What better “place” than the middle of your banquet table?

TAURUS … the Bull … They value their sense of stability and security … a bit stubborn, they dislike change … once baked, they’ll have no more problems with that!

GEMINI … the Twins … Double the pleasure … double the fun … they loved surrounding themselves with people … best served as a duo … one at the head and one at the foot of your oversized very crowded Thanksgiving table.

CANCER … the Crab … She needs to be needed … had a great desire to feel loved … when you sit in front of your Cancer turkey, be sure to lavish praise on her!

LEO … the Lion … He may have roared like a Lion … paraded around like a king … but he still ended up on the platter … that’s the big joke on Leos!

VIRGO … the Virgin … Team players … very intelligent (for a turkey) … and can be intuitive … since she was often critical, she’s best eaten at one sitting!

LIBRA … the Scales … These birds thrived when their needs of balance, justice and stability were met … massage them … brine them … baste them at regular intervals to ensure a more harmonious oven experience.

SCORPIO … the Scorpion … She always watched you in spite of her secretive, seemingly withdrawn and uninterested manner … she’s best served straight from the fridge … slathered with butter and salt and plopped deep in a flash frying turkey fryer.  Take no prisoners!

SAGITTARIUS … the Centaur … The explorer and lover of adventure … they roamed the world looking for new experiences … most likely a wild bird brought to your table from the fields … not the farm … tough and gamey … but definitely on the wild side!

CAPRICORN … the Goat … A practical turkey and deft organizer … she always tried to herd the flock in one direction … wanted everything in order … be sure your table’s organized and your dinner plan’s perfectly executed … along with your turkey!

AQUARIUS … the Water Bearer … Often the most easily bored of the flock … she always looked for something new … very quirky personalities … best served with an array of unusual side dishes … say bye-bye to Thanksgiving traditions!

PISCES … the Fish … The Dreamers in the flock … honest and trustworthy but can be gullible … that could be how they ended up on your table … handle them gently when prepping them.

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Happy Thanksgiving … Just sayin’ …

Don’t ya just hate Christmas Blogs before Thanksgiving?

There’s a juicy pre-Christmas news item floating around outer space … and the internet … and it’s being linked to our total destruction.

No … it’s not the odds that jolly old St. Nick will get stuck in a chimney … causing “Christmas Interruptus.”

Or, an out-of-control-Rudolph will crash his reindeer team into one of the 128 million pieces of space debris now being tracked by CNEOS … our Center for Near Earth Object Studies.

Yes … the US Gov’t really does have a Center dedicated to tracking all that orbiting space s**t.

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Recently the CNEOS folks confirmed that there are currently 26 “Near-Earth” objects scheduled to pass us in the next 60 days!

Where are the Waste Management trucks when we need them?

Should we create a Space Waste Force to go along with You-Know-Whose US Space Force and start bagging up all this garbage?

If Elon Musk can launch a Tesla into orbit … can’t we get a garbage truck up there and scoop up some of this space s**t?

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The space rock causing the most consternation indeed will pass by earth early evening of Christmas Eve … Santa beware!

The Brit tabloid “Express” seems to be most intrigued with this impending Christmas Doom’s Day scenario … some totally “stoned” Brit sources estimate the size of the Rock as a tumbling World Trade Center.

According to some other Brits not “tripping” at their keyboards … the size of the space rock is somewhere between a Red Double Decker London Bus … and a VW Bug.

Either way … that’s a BFA … “Big F***ing Asteroid!”

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The real question is … “How close is close?”

All the space-rock-killer-hullabaloo is sparked over the asteroid known as 216258 2006 WH1 … pretty catchy name … don’t-ya think “Space Hellion” … or “Destruct-O” would be better?

But fear not … CNEOS has been tracking this “Space Puppy” since 2006 … that’s the past 13 years … so it’s hardly a sneak attack!

And according to NASA … though the BFA will “pass by earth” … it will be at a distance of approximately 3.6 million miles.

3.6 million?  That’s a lotta miles between earth and the BFA … even if they call it a “Near Earth Object!”

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So just shut up Brits … enuf with the Christmas Doomsday Conspiracy … work on your “Brexit-Exit” … and LEAVE SANTA ALONE!

Just sayin’ …

The “Trump-phabet”

A … “A is for A-hole” … everyone has one … some use it properly and keep it clean … others, like you-know-who in the White House …  are stuck with it as a character flaw.

B … “B is for Buttboy” … the role our resident A-hole plays with Vladimir Putin.

C … “C is for Conspiracy Theories” … the real Fake News that our very own A-hole seems never to tire of.

D … “D is for Drain the Swamp” … but our A-hole had to build a special “Trump Swamp Tower” to house all the new Swamp Creatures he’s added to swamp he didn’t drain.

E … “E is for Evangelicals” … a group of pseudo-Christians who haven’t discovered they’re exploited by someone who thinks “Two Corinthians” is a book in the Bible.

F … “F is for F-yourself” … the ultimate awkward sex act … the one our current White House Tenant is doing to our entire country.

G … “G is for the GOP” … that group dominated by fat-old-white-men who sold their “soles” to the first letter of the “Trump-phabet” … see “A-hole.”

H … “H is for Hillary” … the woman who got more votes for president than the A-hole got.

I … “I is for Investigations” … remember when he said Hillary would be spending all her time fighting investigations if she got elected?

J … “J is for Junior” … as in Trump Junior … the trophy-hunting-arrogant-liar “Spokes Son” for Daddy Dearest.

K … “K is for nothing” … unless it’s linked with two additional K’s … meaning “KKK” … the racist antisemitic organization revitalized by our resident A-hole.

L … “L is for Lock Her Up” … our WH tenant’s 2016 campaign rally cry which for 2020 has morphed into “Lock Him Up.”

M … “M is for Melania” … who will be a very, very wealthy divorcee when she splits from you-know-who before he’s arrested … and financially ruined.

N … “N” is for the “N-word” … which the A-hole’s leaking aides say he loves to use in the Offal Office.

O … “O is for Orange” … which is the color of our A-hole’s skin and hair … so far no one in the country mimics his style.

P … “P is for P***y” … a word used only by the A-holes of the world practicing “Power Sex” … a euphemism for “rape.”

Q … “Q” is for Quid-pro-Quo”… which means “this-for-that” and for sure never happened because he “takes and never gives.”  His personal Latin word is “culus” … A-hole.

R … “R is for all things Russia” … whose President, Putin must have digital photos of you-know-who doing it with farm animals instead of beautiful Russian prostitutes.

S … “S is for shithole countries” … used by A-hole to describe countries where black-brown-yellow people outnumber white folks.

T … “T is for tantrum” … the behavior most often used by our A-hole to express his feelings, opinions, wants, needs, desires and when his KFC is delivered cold.

U … “U is for underwear” … more specifically “Tightie-Whities” … which Stormy Daniels reported our p***y-grabbing-sexual-predator-A-hole wore the night she spanked him with a copy of Forbes … Tightie Whities?

V … “V is for Vlad” … our A-hole’s new BFF which no one understands … refer back to “R – all things Russia.”

W … “W is for Winning” … remember when he promised … “You’ll be winning so much you’ll get tired of winning?”

X … “X is for Xenophobia” … which the A-hole practices referring to “my Black supporter” … record employment for Blacks and Latinos … Mexican rapists … drug dealers and murderers … extolling Brownshirts, Nazis and Fascists.

Y … “Y is for Yovanovitch” … as in Maria Yovanovitch, our Ambassador to Ukraine … forced from her office by the A-Hole’s “3-Amigos” … Rick Perry, Gordon Sondland and Kurt Volker … but watch out … “Karma really is a bitch.”

Z … “Z is for Zelensky” … the President of Ukraine, who unlike our A-hole, did not cave to pressure from foreign governments in order to get elected.

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It’s good to know your ABCs.

Just sayin’ …

“Bringing down al Big Bad-daddi” Narrated by Donald “Maddog Rambo” Trump

Like any great saga, the tale of a heroic deed grows exponentially with each telling as it morphs into a legend retold in medieval mead halls where minstrels spread the tale to the masses.

Here’s “Maddog Rambo Trump” … as his own “Digital Age Minstrel.”

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“After mocking Obama for being a pansy-ass, I decided to make killing the most ruthless, eloosive ISIS leader my #1 mission … while I also eliminated ekonemic stability … caved to China in world trade … gave away prime Mid-East sand to Syria, Russia and Turkey … evickted the Kurds from their homes without even going to court … caused lifetime psycho harm to Mexican kids separating them from their families … and increased profits to my personal business empire more than I could have imagined.

What a country we live in!

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I alone set up the mission to get that cur-dog Ahboo Big-baddy based on my own deep understanding of military untelligence ignoring our useless generals and admirals.

I choose the darkest night ever recorded in the dessert sands of Syria … I lokate the exact place where that raghead piece of goat shit would be hiding … just outside a shit hole village called Barisha … in a piece of shit compound.

Then covered in my personal American flag, I commanded that my handpicked Seels be ready to strike.  Under my leedership these men would be sukcesful and recognized for their bravery.

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I personally inspected each choppter … looking for chance of failure.  No grain of sand would stop us … unlike that old peenut cropper Jimmie Carter … who couldn’t rescue our hostages from Iran … and is still building cheep houses.

We flew low and fast under the radar I knew they had installed in the back of their old pickup trucks.  We were fast and unseeable because I insisted on my new dessert pattern sand storm choppter paint … available on-line at MaddogTrumpSandStormPaints.com.

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I knew A Bubba-gotti would run as soon as we dropped.

I jumped first from the choppter … my AR15 swinging left to right … mostly to the left killing lefties … and headed toward an oblivious tunnel.

I stopped to call in Droam cover … those buzzy little flying things that look like wasps but drop bombs instead of stinging you … I hadda hunch we’d need more air power.

Ignoring cries from my fellow Sells to ‘play it safe’ … I dove into the darkness of the tunnel with my trusted personal military dog … hot on the scent of Abul-Garri because they used his underwear to track him … which I thought was mean to the dog.

I heard him already crying ‘Leaf me alone … Leaf me alone.’  But the dog and I pressed on.

I imagined his neck in my biggly hands strangling him while my trusty dog grabbed his crotch.

But the sniffling crybaby coward blew himself up before I could kill him.

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I stumbled out of the tunnel carrying my wounded dog pal … gazed up to the full moon and howled … ‘He’s all yours, men … what’s left of him.’

Whistling the ‘Star Spangled Banner,’ I carried my dog and my American flag back to America.”

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Just sayin’ …