Thanksgiving Grouse

Thanksgiving is a day when Americans gorge themselves on roast turkey, stuffing and pumpkin pie. Granted, I got a turkey breast to roast, but that’s as far as I went. I detest American holidays because they seem so shallow and phony. Thanksgiving is a day when people in this country are supposed to give thanks for what they have. It seems to me that if Americans really appreciated what they had, they would not be throwing it away. All Americans do is manufacture garbage. Halloween amounts to a hundred thousand tons of pumpkins carved up and soon thrown in the trash. Then we carve up a turkey around a month later, eat one good meal, a couple midnight snacks and ultimately dispose of the rest. A month after that, we redirect our disrespect of nature on the plant kingdom again, treating trees like they were cut flowers. The least we could do is recycle them into paper, but no – standard operating procedure dictates a bonfire a month later. More carbon dioxide in the atmosphere for no other reason Christmas trees don’t decompose so obligingly as pumpkins or tender, young turkeys. Christmas then adds insult to injury in the fact we harvest twice as many trees to provide the bows, ribbons and wrapping adorning a bunch of debt enhancing garbage which itself is eventually destined to become future landfill.

Nobody cares because nobody thinks about any of this, any more so than a hog with its head in the trough. Neither appears to notice they are little more than eating machines, comfortably wallowing in their own waste. Sightless maggots at least have a chance of flying away. All a hog blindly looks foreword to is becoming its owner’s future dinner. Next stop, the trash – and the toilet.

OINK!

FOXY

Another post, another portal.

por-to-let?.

"FOXY" congradualted me on the wittisism of my latest stab into the cold void of cyberspace and then warmly encouraged me to visit an adult dating service to warm the depths of my frozen soul. Not one to peck highlighted text like a starving chicken, the long way home revealed this vixen's homepage was nothing but a vaccous BLOGSPOT address devoid of content or creator. Then, doing what I should have done, I popped up a commercially correct conduit to my 50 dollar investment in rushing roulette.

Fuck You, FOXY.

You are just another maggot fattened on the aftermath of the Baby Boom. Crawling out of the muck, you have learned to fly and now pester me with shit kisses. Save your vomit. I don't care how much you spent on your last meal. If I want to wallow in filth I have all of cyberspace to plumb, not the one dimensional bowel sausage you advertise as True Love.

love STINKS

Roger L. Sieloff