As promised, like a turkey, I dressed for Thanksgiving dinner and could not wait be stuffed. Unlike a turkey, I preferred the stuffing orifice to be my mouth, not my vent (that’s turkey for ‘anus’).
Donning the plush turkey hat with frills on the leg – purchased for me by Rated R, I decided to pair it with boots that I had ‘frilled’ with a faux fur top. If there had been a ball, I would have been the belle. I had toyed with gluing feathers to my shirt for a full-on turkey effect, but Rated R was afraid that may result in the dogs trying to hump and eat me. Even without the feathers, they still tried to hump me. In fact, I left the dinner with more splooge marks on my shirt than my coworker after he takes a three-hour lunch break.
As we prepared the meal the aroma was mouth watering. Cream Of Tartar made two birds – one in the smoker and the other in the oven. The smoked bird smelled divine and I couldn’t help but encourage D-Dog to give it a whiff. Pointing to it’s very blackened vent I told her, “Get in there and smell it. Nice, right? Now you know why dogs do it.” “Yep, makes sense,” she replied pulling her nose back from the vent. “Better than a spice cabinet,” I added.
While I continued to take in all of the aroma of the smoked bird, Cream Of Tartar, Bow Tie Killer and Chauffeur contemplated smoking cigars. Somehow, the idea of Rated R participating was mentioned. I pulled my nose away from the bird, temporarily, so I could stick it in their business, “You should do it! Keep that baby little!” She opted against the cigar, primarily because they didn’t have our favorite – the pimp stick. Oh, and also because she’s pregnant. Unlike a bird, those who’ve been ‘poked’ shouldn’t be smoked.