An Ooga Thanksgiving – 11/27/2002

Behold, Ooga is thankful to the Big Dawg…

  • for the foul and reeking minions of the Hickolian Hill People, enchained in slavery, their orange apparel running red with the blood of Dawgly vengeance.
  • for good, polished iron spikes, sharpened for battle, mounted upon the White Stripe of Helmetly Righteousness, and dipped in the poison of Dawgly vengeance.
  • for comely hordes of fine young cheerwenches, capable of worthy feats of gymnastiness, divided thusly into two factions, one yelling, “Oo!” and the other, “Ga!”
  • for firstborn male puplings, ready to be trained in the Way of the Dawg, upon the gift of their first spiked club and the trophy ear of a vanquished Hickolian.
  • for an orgy of swinely Thanksgiving feasting: possum-ka-bob; tasty squirrel cutlets stuffed with savory vegetables and live insects; pickled Techling pie with loads o’ whipped cream.
  • for the slow, painful deaths by torture of all of the Nattering Nimrods of NATS fanboy nation, lo, all seven of them, and to the music of their shreiking in the process.
  • for the Pilgrims and the Indians, and the savage combat with which they smote one another and devoured each other’s remains for The First Thanksgiving, just as all young warriors are taught the story.
  • for a well-woven and comfy loincloth.
  • for two days after Thanksgiving, waking from the orgy of swinely feasting, and enjoying leftovers combed from one’s manly tuft of facial hair.
  • for possum-ka-bob. What, hath Ooga already mentioned it? Mmm, possum-ka-bob.
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