A time of thanks.
Now let’s all bow our heads and give our Maker His moment due.
And a toast; to the Injuns in the Plymouths, who we so ceremoniously honored that first Thanksgiving Day and who so graciously gave up their land, their lives, their everything to broken promises, lies, pillaging, rape, murder, and plunder so that renewed white Puritan supremacy may rule from sea to shining radioactive sea. Oh say can you see by the dawn’s . . . Damn if it don’t just fill my heart with bliss I could spit. By hell, I think I just shed a tear.
Now in honor of that genocidal era when God bequeathed us whites their land of milk and honey, bestowing liberty and justice for all, not to mention slaves to pick cotton and work the fast-foods, what better way to express gratitude for our shackled and dwindling freedoms than to decapitate an innocent genetically modified bird, who having lived her entire life held in agonizing captivity only to have her innards yanked out her ass, do we place this now de-spirited fowl upon our table, amongst our smiling fucking faces, watering mouths, and ever expanding mid-sections.
Sweet Jesus, football’s on. Turn the TV up, bitch and fetch me another Budweiser.
Goddamn, I’m proud to be American!