Seems we are all vying to host the President Elect's Thanksgiving holiday! Me thinks His Excellency would have us ladies get into a small cat fight over his ultimate choice of where to start the holiday season, but we ain't gonna fall prey to that now, are we girls? No, no, we aren't. United we stand, divided we fall. I sure can't compete with the Queen (Liz or Elton, take your pick), Stephensville co-eds, or thumb-screws (no matter how much he begs), or even the tantalizing lure of optional clothing in Oz. I mean, just think how long it would take to get there, not to mention the snakes, toads and other dangerous denizens down under (sorry, Killala, couldn't restrain myself).
Regarding what's for Thanksgiving dinner, let me say that Robert would be happy to prepare whatever you prefer, be it fowl (all you can catch chicken McNuggets), equine (except for my mini donks), or bovine (except for Fat Mama Moo Cow). He tells me he's a good cook, but he's never offered to prove it…I'd say Thanksgiving is as good a time as any, wouldn't you? I will be busy giving chicken catching and holding lessons.
Allow me to add that we'd be happy to include Warpaint and his lovely family, as long as he doesn't bring any scrambled brains, chocolate-covered insects, warbles (see my other post) or chittlins (I've heard of them, have forgotten what they are, and am glad I did). And no smacking anybody's mama here! Warpaint can bring Tony along to season up those McNuggets. And Bullbuyer, seeing as how you're practically in Virginia anyway, bring your family over along with some of those greens, I've got the vinegar, and don't forget the satellite dish (as long as you can hook it up quickly and it doesn't tune in any football, we'll all get along just fine).
