I've got to work my arse off over the next week for the holiday so I offer you this as I toss my bird in the oven this eve.
I'm a bachelor that cooks, pretty well I might ad, but I don't touch this nasty thing. I'm not sure what my grandmother, god rest her soul, used to do with these things but she could make something that was a delectable delight from this gobbler neck, which I always found odd. But touche.
(I've got a sneaking suspicion that Bristol Palin might eat this thing in one bite, raw, to help keep that svelt figure of hers).
I thought it might be useful by strapping it to the inside of my thigh under my pants on my next trip to the airport and then video taping the pat down from the TSA...
With that said, I'm not so sure what the hoopla is all about with this new airport system. I mean truly folks, if you bitch about the pat down, and some guy or gal blows up your plane because they had an explosive sausage stuffed in their crotch or up their ass, please do not text me on the way to the ground looking for sympathy because we need to do whatever we can to catch these bastards who will go to no end to try and jack us up. To the contrary, I sympathise a bit with the TSA employees that have to touch every fat, stinky, nasty person that comes through their gate, can you imagine the conversations these people must be having at the bar later that eve? I mean, they must offer each other money to squeeze some of the foul meat that comes through the airport on a daily basis...anyway, Happy Thanksgiving.