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Riley:
“I’ve got to stop looking into the abyss. It’s a dirty habit…”
and Moondoggie:
“An easterly wind blew over the Cobb in Lyme Regis. At the end of the quay, the lone figure of a woman stood, wrapped in a cloak, her eyes fixed on the turbid waters. They called her…Tragedy.”
“What? I wasn’t pretending to be the French Lieutenant’s Woman!”
Well, it was The Thanksgiving That Almost Wasn’t! around here, since the oven died about three weeks ago, after a long and greasy life. It was so old, in fact, that the company which manufactured it was no longer in business, and any replacement parts would have had to be hand-forged by Hephaestus in the boiling caldera of Mount Etna, and even then there’s a 12 to 15 day delivery, which sounds fine, but that’s business days.
Amazingly, though, they replaced it with a brand new stove-and-oven (stoven?) combo, so the Jenni-O turkey breast in the freezer will not have been severed from a dead bird countless weeks ago in vain. It’s a Thanksgiving Miracle!
And here to deliver the invocation is Riley:
Felicitations on your Feast of Gratitude, Bipeds. You may begin by getting down on your ungainly mid-leg joints and kissing my white socks that I haven’t killed you yet. However, later today, after your gluttony has left you weak, bloated, and tempting, I issue no guarantees.
Okay. Let’s move on to Moondoggie for the Benediction:
ZZZzzzzzzzzZZZzzzZZZzzzZZzzzzzzzzz…
As long time readers know, Mystery Science Theater 3000 has a special place in my heart (specifically, the place — down and to the right — where most of America has Bristol Palin clog-dancing in their vena cava), since s.z., Mary and I all initially bonded over our shared love of the show. For which I’m thankful; because if we’d been brought together through a common interest in Hayek or Ayn Rand, then we all would have just wound up as assholes. The hundreds of cats and dogs that s.z. has saved would instead have been turned out into the snow to make their own Galtian way — perhaps by founding a freelance snow-shoveling business (and don’t give me that crap about domestic quadrupeds lacking thumbs! I’ve seen footage of Goofy mowing his own lawn); and Mary and I would be divorced by now, and giving you unsolicited advice on the sanctity of marriage.
Anyway, I never much cared for Thanksgiving a child, because it meant a series of dull undercard bouts amongst relatives who didn’t much interest me when they weren’t fighting, culminating with the main event when my parents would inevitably square off after the gallon jug of Italian-Swiss Colony Rosé was empty. Worse, it meant my grandmother’s cottage cheese and lime Jell-O salad.
Any pleasant memories I have of the holiday date to the early-mid-90s, and are due entirely to the MST3K Turkey Day Marathons, which Mary and I recreate every year with a few carefully curated DVDs. So here’s a little something to get you in the mood…
And in case I don’t say it often enough — and I don’t — I’m thankful for the many smart, funny, unbelievably kind and generous people who continue to cling to this disreputable corner of blogtopia. On behalf on Sheri, Mary, and the cats, Happy Turkey Day everyone.
MOONDOGGIE: Come, take my paw, and we’ll run away to the couch — forever!
MOONDOGGIE: Well, my little Hostess Cupcake…?
RILEY: (SIGH) I hate when he gets romantic. How can I tell him I only hate him as a friend?
RILEY: Ha! I’d like to see him sneak up on us with that camera now!
RILEY: Crap!
Riley: ZZZzzzz — Huh? What…the hell is he…?
Riley: Great. Just great. I lay down for a nap and I wake up a Pushmi-Pullyu.
Moondoggie: That’s weird. I’ve got the strangest feeling someone’s photobombing me…
Riley: All I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by. And a good, sturdy cheek shelf.
As you may have heard, the latest radical liberal threat to our freedom, jobs, and very way of life is the “Puppy Mill Cruelty Prevention Act.”
Here’s Joe the Fake Plumber to tell you why:
by Joe ‘The Plumber’ Wurzelbacher
While Americans across the country have entered the political game to save our country, moving that proverbial ball of freedom towards the end zone, we’ve been sacked. Blindsided. We’ve been so focused on legislative elections (and rightly so) that most Americans don’t even know they’ve been hit – and hit hard.
What Joe means is that Tea Partiers have been so busy protesting anchor babies and health care reform, they don’t even realize that they have received traumatic brain injuries from repetitively hitting their heads against walls.
But not by some big, burly monster like voter fraud or corruption. No, we’ve been knocked flat by the ignorance of the conservative electorate and cute little puppies licking our stunned, what-the-heck-just-happened faces.
If you have ever watched Animal Planet’s “Puppy Bowl,” you know that puppies are virtual sacking machines. And if you’ve ever seen typical Tea Partiers, you’ve seen “stunned, what-the-heck-just happened” faces a-plenty.
Well, I’ll tell you what just happened.
Thanks, Joe! When I want someone to explain the world to me, I always go an unlicensed, lying plumber.
It’s called the Humane Society of the United States cowardly hiding behind animal cruelty, lying to our citizens and taking our constitutional rights away – one state at a time.
Your constitutional rights to be cruel to animals are in jeopardy! Do something, quick!
This radical animal rights organization (HSUS), who spends less than 0.5% of its $100M + budget on actually helping animals,
They tell you up front that they are an advocacy group — so, whether you agree with what they do or not, you can’t claim that Joe just uncovered some shocking fiscal scandal. And the HSUS isn’t the only group sponsoring this proposal — others include the Humane Society of Missouri, the Missouri Alliance for Animal Legislation, the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and Best Friends Animal Society. You want to carp about how they don’t “actually help animals”, Joe?
And why are national groups getting involved in trying to pass this legislation in MO? Well, MO is Puppy Mill Central — approximately 40% of all pet store puppies nationwide are bred in Missouri, where almost 200,000 breeding dogs produce up to a million puppies a year. Go here for more info.
is using the referendum process to slowly, systematically eliminate food production in the United States.
Because the HSUS is OPPOSED TO FOOD!
This November, HSUS is after the dog breeding industry in Missouri calling the bill the “Puppy Cruelty Prevention Act”. Great name. I mean who wouldn’t want to keep someone from being cruel to a puppy?
Apparently, Joe. (And Phyllis Schlafly. As well as MO’s Senator Blaine Luetkemeyer. And Missouri State Senators Chuck Purgason, Frank Barnitz, Wes Shoemyer, Bill Stouffer, Dan Clemens, Gary Nodler. And Missouri State Representatives Kenny Jones, Mike Parson, Mike Dethrow, Jim Viebrock, Rodney Schad, Jason Smith, Brian Munzlinger, Tom Loehner, Therese Sander, David Day, and Dan Brown.)
The problem is Missouri already HAS laws protecting animals – all animals.
If you for one minute think that the existing laws are preventing thousands of dogs and puppies from being cruelly exploited for profit in Missouri, go here: .
Missouri’s Proposition B makes it a “crime of cruelty” for a piece of dog food to be in a water bowl
No, Joe, it doesn’t. It calls for providing potable water at all times — nowhere does it state that having one piece of kibble in a bowl is a crime. But hey, if you think the dogs already have it so good in Missouri’s 3,000 puppy mills, I dare you to go drink out of the dishes in any of the mills.
or for a dog breeder to treat their own pet if they become ill (even with something as simple as a cold).
Well, it does stipulate that necessary euthanasia must be performed by a vet, so yeah, the practice of breeders “treating” their “pets” by clubbing them to death when they are too ill to be profitable would no longer be legal.
This would almost be comical if it weren’t for the OTHER, more insidious parts of this bill that hit at the very core of our liberties.
The framers of the constitution would be rolling in their graves if they heard that your right to own more than 50 breeder dogs (and their attendant puppies, which could number in the 100-200 range at any given time) is in peril. Because the freedom to cruelly exploit puppies for profit is what our country was founded on!
This bill forces breeders to limit the number of dogs they can own – regardless of care. Think about this a minute . . . . Should the government have the right to limit the number of houses a realtor can sell?
If houses were living, breathing creatures that required adequate care, facilities, and attention to be happy and healthy, then yeah, maybe the government should have the right to limit the number of houses that a realtor could breed for sale.
These new regulations will put almost every breeder in Missouri out of business
Because even though Puppy Millers sell their poorly-bred, frequently unhealthy puppies for hundreds of dollars each, it seems that they can’t afford to treat their animals humanely and still make a tidy profit. Sad, isn’t it?
forcing the price of dogs to sky rocket and allowing pet ownership only for the very wealthy.
Yeah, because if there is one problem facing dogs these days, it’s the fact that they are just too scarce.
Hey, Joe, if for some reason my sarcasm isn’t getting through to you, go to one of the numerous municipal animal shelters in Missouri, or anywhere for that matter, and look into the faces of the dogs and puppies that are going to be euthanized that day because THERE AREN’T ENOUGH HOMES FOR ALL OF THE UNWANTED DOGS. Joe, you stupid, lying scumbag, I hope you get a real glow of pleasure knowing that you are a tool for some of the most greedy, heartless bastards on the planet, the puppy millers.
Anyway, I’d better stop now before I urge locking Joe in a wire crate that cuts into his feet, with no room to turn around, with urine and feces raining down on him from the occupant of the cage above him, stacked in an unheated, non-air-conditioned building.– and forcing him to stay there for his entire life.
So, yeah, Tea Partiers, you found a cause to be proud of.
Riley:
“I do it all with static electricity.”
Moondoggie:
“When life gives you a mouthful of acrylic blanket, you’ve gotta make blanket-ade.”
Moondoggie: I don’t remember my — probably violent — past. I only know that my name is…Wolverine! SNIKT!
Of course, I also don’t remember what I had for lunch today, even though it’s the same thing I always have, for every meal…
Damn that Weapon X program!
Also, maybe you shouldn’t leave X-Men 2 in the DVD player, and the remote where I can lay on it.
Riley: Welp…guess I better get back at it. Those underpants aren’t gonna fondle themselves…
It’s World O’ Crap’s seventh blogiversary today, and with s.z. back and sharing her unique brand of brilliance (not available in any store!), I’m feeling particularly festive. So here’s a special Pre-Post-Friday Multimedia Beast Blogging…
SEE! Moondoggie as the repressed and conflicted Jimmy Stewart part!
GASP! at Riley, as the wild and sexually adventurous Euro-babe! No man can own her! No underpants can tame her!
Do you dare click and watch…?