Anarking

This Comic Sucks (The Naming)

Floride… take it easy

There’s nothing quite like staring a turkey coming out of the oven on Thanksgiving day. It’s very Norman Rockwellian in it’s grandiose display of over abundance and promise of a satisfied hunger. But then things get quite disturbing for this benevolent carcass. The breast becomes a mangled mess worthy of Jack the Ripper kudos, the splayed open legs and the “love me daddy” wings are either torn asunder or picked at and this promise reveals the ugly truth. Turkeys after the Thanksgiving feast always felt to me like they were striped naked, a victim of a violent crime. It’s like some one went up to that Norman Rockwell and painted penises all over it in sharpie.

I stopped eating meat a while ago but I still feel a tad guilty looking at the mangled carcass and thinking “leftovers”.

So we are officially in a recession and I wonder which of my friends will become “the leftovers” and when will I join them in the quest to avoid freezer burn. I guess America stopped being Rockwellian long ago but we were too busy shoving cranberry sauce into our collective pie holes to do much about it, I’m sure we may have even laughed at some of the penis sketches. Now I find my self asking what next? As well as the following questions:

• Do I abandon the dinner table and go to a different one?
• Maybe there will be more turkey and if so who will get rid of this one?
• Maybe there will be dessert, oh I hope it’s pecan pie, will there be pie?
• Why the hell does my father in-law keep pouring me scotch, does he hate my liver?

The only answer I came up with was let’s go to Sarasota. We did. It was grand. So I guess this is not the game over many men in suits and ties claim it to be. It’s more like, reset. I’m cool with that. Florida isn’t that bad of a place if you have a car and I always wanted to write a book.