Tuesday, October 09, 2007

It's Thanksgiving time.

...and, as one of the biggest-ever acts on the Adult Contemporary charts in the early '80s would put it, it's "a time for Jell-O".

But, on the second Monday in October, I usually* say a little prayer of thanks of my own. It goes a little like this:

Dear Little Lord Baby Jesus Christ of Nazareth, the Messiah, the One True God (Earthly Incarnation Remix Version), Kickass Carpenter, Water-Walker Supreme, Fisher of Men (And Probably Women), and 1979 Super Bowl MVP:

Thank You for everything.

Thank You for making it so that I'm not drenched in sweat anymore, like I have been since the anniversary of Your crucifixion way back there in April (or March as the case may be).**

Thank You for mathematically eliminating the Leafs from the playoffs so early in the season. I guess You don't want to get all of Leaf Nation's hopes up, in the case that they end up ninth-or-lower in the Eastern Conference.

And thank You, by the way, for renaming the former Prince of Wales Conference the Eastern Conference a few years back. It's so delightfully devoid of history, and yet so geographically perfect.

Thank You for inventing S'mores. The combination of graham cracker, marshmallow and chocolate could only have been invented by Someone who's tight with The Big Man.

Thanks for putting all those American troops in Iraq for so long. I've really been making the rounds, banging their lonely wives and girlfriends since 2003. And thanks for all the V.D. that I've contracted in that time, and the assorted burning sensations I feel when I urinate.

And finally, thank You for fluffy kittens, anthrax (the deadly poison), and Anthrax (the hair-metal band that first came to prominence in the late '80s and once did a hilarious guest spot on Married... With Children oh so many years ago; my brother and I still laugh about that one). I know You created them all, but I must say I'm a little curious as to why You'd create such a deadly poison which shreds a person's nervous system in about an hour.

But hey, You work in mysterious ways. And thanks for that, too.

Sincerely, Your buddy, JTL.


PS: Bengals at Chiefs, this Sunday... who do you like? Yes, I realize it's Your day... but I've got a few burly fellows — no doubt sent by You — who sure would like to break my legs if I don't settle a few debts. Let's let Your omniscience work for us both this time.
* I'm agnostic, so this would be a waste of time.
** Thirty damn degrees on Thanksgiving Monday? C'mon!

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