Don't You Pardon that Bird!

You're free, Squawky!

This year, as in many others, the President of the United States will on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving  good-naturedly but officially pardon a turkey. 

Mr. President, don't you pardon that bird!

According to recently classified documents obtained by Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute, pardoning a turkey serves only to release back into the general populace a terrorist bent on the overthrow of the United States and the destruction of everything we hold dear, including Betty White!   

                                                                 Who?  Me? 

Turkey Nation,  as we have now learned,  has sought to destroy the United States from a time before there even was a United States.

How did it all begin?   

When the Pilgrims first landed at Plymouth Rock in 1620, indigenous American turkeys were terrified by the pale-skinned,  non-feathered, non-turkey necked* New Kids on the Rock.  Turkey Nation feared that before long they'd be forced to wear shoes with annoyingly cute little buckles and read boring poetry by Longfellow. 

Their leader, known as Squawky, devised a cunning scheme in which he feigned friendship with the settlers and actually encouraged them to pound down the turkey on Thanksgiving Day. Once saturated with typtophan,  the dozing Pilgrims would be no match for Turkey Nation's plans for murder most fowl!

Two days after Thanksgiving 1621, Squawky led a raid known to history as Gobblers' Gambit in which 16 soporific settlers were killed, another eight wounded, and 14 more smeared with mashed potatoes and giblet gravy. Additional raids followed, some of which involved  frontal assault with pumpkin pie, which has no other purpose aside from warfare.

Squawky feigns friendliness toward the Pilgrims at the First Thanksgiving, 1621

During the Revolutionary War, Turkey Nation continued its treachery by remaining loyal to the British Crown. Squawky (not the original Squawky) convinced General  Benedict Arnold to slip secret information concerning "basting techniques" to British spymaster Major John Andre, thereby causing the name "Squawky" to become forever synonymous with the word "traitor!" 

(Occasionally the name "Benedict Arnold" is used for similar purposes as well.)

And what of today? 

Your Thanksgiving Dinner is  enabled each year through the efforts of millions of kamikaze turkeys willing to give their lives and gizzards for the cause. Aided by their evil partner in crime, the National Football League, Turkey Nation seeks to get you so sleepy Thursday afternoon that it can seize power before you can say "fuckin' turkey  leftovers again?"

Fortunately the CIA has been able to counter their plans by covertly orchestrating disturbances to keep you awake.  Think your loud bigoted uncle at dinner, your vomiting St. Bernard, and your daughter weepily telling you she's pregnant by General Petraeus are all coincidences?   It's the U.S. government keeping you safe!

At least until now.

And so, Mr. President, don't you pardon that bird!  

And to all of you:  this Thanksgiving,  please be careful when you hit that living room, undo your bulging fat belly pants, and shut your eyes.  

You might just wake up marching to the beat of a different drumstick.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING,  EVERYONE!

YOU TOO,  SQUAWKY!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Squawky (not the original Squawky) greets close buds
 in Berlin, 1937

*except for one Captain Newton Gingrich

Captain Cautious Buys A Car

Perry!!! Have I got a car for you!

It was time.   My Uncool Car was but a memory.  It had been felled by an automobile mishap, the unfortunate experience of which had turned me into Captain Cautious Behind the Wheel.

But it wasn't the heavy-handed plugging of two previous blog posts nobody's going to read anyway that caused me to put off purchasing a replacement vehicle.  It was something else,  something far less annoying for you but far more troubling for me.

I have no sales resistance.    NONE!

Want Proof?  

~ I'm still receiving the last year and a half of my subscription to the newsletter  Minister Farrakhan Speaks Out On Why He Hates You.  But I am thinking of not renewing ...

~ I purchased 6,000 acres of real estate sight unseen on the recommendation of  former presidential candidate Newt Gingrich.  It was only later I heard of his plans to colonize Mars. 

~ I invested in a play called Springtime for Hitler.  Actually, oddly enough,  that investment turned out pretty well.

Why do I succumb so readily to sales pressure?   Maybe it's because I fall for every aggressive salesperson's trick in the book.

1) If the salesperson is friendly and seems to like me, I want to please them!   And if I've made an age-related comment in the time I've been with them,  just let them say "I don't believe it, you look great!" and watch them hit sales quota for the month,  even if it's June 2nd.   And for the next month too.

2) If the salesperson is not that friendly and ignores me, I want to please them!  "If I can't even get sales people not to hate me," I think  "no wonder I can't get any dates!" 

3) So, the very special once-in-a-lifetime discount price expires in 15 minutes?  Who'd believe that nonsense?   Me.  I rush to sign the papers like I'm on Minute to Win It!

4) The salesperson aggressively pushes me for a yes or no answer?  Everybody knows that's the time to firmly say "no" and walk away!  I firmly say "yes," as do my firmly planted "yes-affirming" feet.  

But not this time!  This time I'll be prepared.  This time I won't succumb.

I studied up on cars.  I listened to those Car Talk guys on NPR.  I'll probably never again contribute to NPR, but I listened to the those Car Talk guys on NPR.

I practiced my sales resistance in the mirror:  "No, that's way too much!"  "Sorry, not interested!" "Yes or no? Then the answer is a big fat NO, you big fat douchebag!"

I knew I was ready.  

I entered the dealership prepared for battle.  I asked to see a sales person.  That sales person approached.

A very attractive young person of the female persuasion! 

"Before we get started," I blurted out "I'm prepared for you! I know that: 

•  these cars are in demand because Car &  Cool Guy Magazine called  them the Best Glove Compartment in Mid-Class Hybrids,  
• everyone takes Option Group 4A  because leather makes a statement, 
• your unbelievably low pricing is good for Tonight Only!,  and
•  Throw in floor mats?! Throw in floor mats?!!  Your Sales Manager will never let you throw in floor mats,  but if I'm ready to buy RIGHT NOW, you'll do EVERYTHING YOU POSSIBLY CAN TO GET HIM TO THROW IN FLOOR MATS!"

I paused.   She didn't say a word.

"And you're going to act like you like me, I'll want to please you, and then I'll buy a car this very evening and overpay considerably for it.  But at least I can go home in my lovely new car and freely fantasize about having sex with you later."

She nodded emphatically.  

''All right," I said. "I'll take ... whatever."  

I picked out the car I wanted, I had a fine sales experience, and a fine fantasy later.

By the way, I really do like my new car.  There it is below.  

I still have no sales resistance.   But I do have floor mats!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zoom-Zoom 

(Note: Lake & mountains in back shown

 to make my life appear more appealing than it is.)