Actually, I'm not sure of the proper nomenclature for poultry bones, however I do remember the proper way, not the Norman Rockwell method as seen in so many hack paintings, to disassemble a bird. I learned it while serving my short lived apprentice-ship as a Sous Chef at Charmer's Market, some 43 years ago.
I'm thankful for that always useful bit of culinary knowledge that has served me well over the years.
I could launch into a sappy holiday monologue of all the things I'm also grateful for. But that would be off-brand for me. And for Roundseventeen. Instead I'll share with you some of the things I am most ungrateful for.
And if you've been paying attention, you already know what what's coming...
Pam Bondi -- Bleach Blond Bondi, if you'll recollect, was selected for the cabinet only after the previous candidate, another of Florida's best and brightest, Matt Gaetz was forced to withdraw his nomination Attorney General. For pedophilia, of all things. What a coincidence, because our Dear Pammy is on the hot seat for trying to flush a truckload of Epstein Files down the golden Trump toilet. I don't know what it takes to pass the bar exam in Florida, but I suspect it's easier than those open book driver's license renewal tests given at The Villages Retirement Home north of Orlando.
Tulsi Gabbard -- Natasha Skunkhair has been sidelined by the Trump administration. And perhaps fittingly exiled off to the Siberian end of the cabinet table. She made the mistake of divulging some findings based on the results of gathered intelligence which contradicted the non-stop verbal diarrhea that spews from the President's mouth. Put another way, the current Director of National Intelligence has no active role in an administration that goes out of its way to be intelligence-free.
Pete Hegseth -- Our Secretary of War. We used to have a Secretary of Defense, but that title was deemed too passive. Only pussies play defense. We're not pussies, and we have the massive budget-sucking weapons industries and track record of failed military adventurism to prove it, so says Pistol Pete. "USA, USA, USA!!!"
Some lunkheads peak too early in life, often in high school where they throw their weight around and take command of a smelly locker room with wet towel snaps while roaring like underdeveloped apes. Pete beat those guys to the punch when at a tender age, he removed his own feces-filled diaper and stuck to it to his head like an Army helmet. GRRRRRR.
RFK Jr. -- What testosterone and Jack Daniels is to Pete Kegsbreath, Heroin aka Smack, is to this addle-brained scion of the Kennedy Clan. I once noticed a dead flattened squirrel on the street in front of my house. It had begun to smell and attracting flies. Rather than wait for animal control to remove the carcass, I put on two pair of rubber gloves and grabbed a spade from my garage. The delicate removal took some considerable time. What I didn't do was put it in the trunk of my car, transport it to my fucked up neighbor's house and deposit it on his yard in retaliation for running his power tools at 3 in the morning. Bobby once came across a bear carcass and went the other direction. This unlistenable toxic schmuck is our Secretary of Health and Human Services.
Kash Patel -- There used to be a television show called The FBI. It aired on Sunday nights. While the rest of America was watching the Wonderful World of Disney, my hardboiled dad and my brother were glued to the adventures of Inspector Lewis played by Efram Zimbalist Jr. He and fellow thespians dutifully read and pretended to be agents of the FBI. There were only actors, role playing on a sound stage in Burbank, CA. But they knew more about the law, and enforcement of the law, than this crazy eyed taint-licking toadie.
You could say Trump did not hire the Best People as he so often claims. You could also say he scraped the bottom of the barrel. You'd be wrong. Trump flipped the aged barrel over, carefully curated the greenish-brownish mold on the bottom side of the mildewy floorboards, scooped it up and hand-molded it into figures that resemble sentient human beings and placed their unworthy asses in seats next to the once sacred levers of power of the United States of America.
Fuck Donald Trump. I would say, "and fuck anyone who voted for and still supports this UnAmerican Hellbeast."
But you might be sharing a turkey or seated across the table from him or her.
Good luck. Happy Thanksgiving America.
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