I’m beginning to loathe the whole Presidential pardoning of the White House thanksgiving turkey schtick. It’s bad enough that the pardoning has become this glorious White House tradition – but it’s all a lie anyway. Does anyone really believe that the president walks into the rose garden, pardons two turkeys and then goes back in for a Thanksgiving dinner of Lasagna? Please, we all know that some nerdier, less photogenic, and obviously left-leaning turkey got trussed up and eviscerated in the kitchen and is about to be carved up like a…well…like a Thanksgiving Turkey, I suppose. “Compassionate Conservatism” my ass… How many innocent people stuck on death row watch the pardoning and think to themselves “So, he’ll pardon a turkey but I’m stuck in here to rot because my sorry-ass public defender couldn’t get the DNA evidence admitted?”
It makes you wonder what would have happened of Benjamin Franklin had gotten his way and named the Turkey as the national symbol. Would we all be running out to buy our Gold’n Plump Bald Eagles tonight after work? Would Butterball be renamed “Butterbald”? What does Eagle gravy taste like? Do Eagles even have white meat? Would Don Henley have joined a band called “The Turkeys”?
This is why when I become president I’m not going to pardon any ol’ Turkeys. However, I will make a point to kill and eat only Turkeys that have been found guilty of supporting the terrorists in a jury trial. Just think of the message that would send to the evil-doers! “Mess with America and our leader will cut off your head, gut you and munch on your thighs while watching football!” I can see it now – strolling out of the Oval office, I walk up to the scruffy-looking bird in its little head scarf; looking self-important as he expects the traditional pardoning so he can return to his evil ways. Then…I pull out the presidential axe. Oh, the fear in those evil-doing eyes would guarantee instant surrender of all the terrorist secrets that he knew, as well as a sure-thing second term.
The worst part about it is what it does to the turkeys themselves. Think of it – you grow up living a pampered lifestyle, sleeping on Minnesota pine shavings and being hand-fed corn and soybean meal. For 18 weeks you live the lifestyle of the rich and famous. You go to the white house and are received by the president, who praises you for your good work. Then, you go to Disneyland where you are the grand marshal for their parade.
Sounds good, doesn’t it? But then what? You’re immediately put into some sort of retirement home where the staff tells you when to eat and sleep, gives you medications, and never lets you leave the yard. You try calling your friend the president to help clear up the misunderstanding, but he doesn’t answer (or even take) your call. You lose your phone privileges after that little stunt. You bide your time, earning the trust of the guards by helping them with their taxes and personal finances until you can grow your feathers enough to fly over the fence during exercise time. But then you have no job skills, no social security number, and no network. You’re just a bird on the street. You have 10 pound breasts but can’t work in adult films (not in the US at least). So you start dealing crack cocaine.
See? Pardoning the presidential turkey turns terrorists into crack dealers. There, I said it. I’ll say it again.
It makes you wonder what would have happened of Benjamin Franklin had gotten his way and named the Turkey as the national symbol. Would we all be running out to buy our Gold’n Plump Bald Eagles tonight after work? Would Butterball be renamed “Butterbald”? What does Eagle gravy taste like? Do Eagles even have white meat? Would Don Henley have joined a band called “The Turkeys”?
This is why when I become president I’m not going to pardon any ol’ Turkeys. However, I will make a point to kill and eat only Turkeys that have been found guilty of supporting the terrorists in a jury trial. Just think of the message that would send to the evil-doers! “Mess with America and our leader will cut off your head, gut you and munch on your thighs while watching football!” I can see it now – strolling out of the Oval office, I walk up to the scruffy-looking bird in its little head scarf; looking self-important as he expects the traditional pardoning so he can return to his evil ways. Then…I pull out the presidential axe. Oh, the fear in those evil-doing eyes would guarantee instant surrender of all the terrorist secrets that he knew, as well as a sure-thing second term.
The worst part about it is what it does to the turkeys themselves. Think of it – you grow up living a pampered lifestyle, sleeping on Minnesota pine shavings and being hand-fed corn and soybean meal. For 18 weeks you live the lifestyle of the rich and famous. You go to the white house and are received by the president, who praises you for your good work. Then, you go to Disneyland where you are the grand marshal for their parade.
Sounds good, doesn’t it? But then what? You’re immediately put into some sort of retirement home where the staff tells you when to eat and sleep, gives you medications, and never lets you leave the yard. You try calling your friend the president to help clear up the misunderstanding, but he doesn’t answer (or even take) your call. You lose your phone privileges after that little stunt. You bide your time, earning the trust of the guards by helping them with their taxes and personal finances until you can grow your feathers enough to fly over the fence during exercise time. But then you have no job skills, no social security number, and no network. You’re just a bird on the street. You have 10 pound breasts but can’t work in adult films (not in the US at least). So you start dealing crack cocaine.
See? Pardoning the presidential turkey turns terrorists into crack dealers. There, I said it. I’ll say it again.
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