Gather your nap mats in a semi-circle around Uncle IBBB, girls, boys, and those who have both the pee-pee and the woo-woo, because I’d like to share with you, and other countries, how Thanksgiving came to be.
A long long time ago, roughly 25 years it is rumored, the baby Jesus took a ride with Puxatony Phil on the Spaceship Challenger to venture out to see if there was a new world out there that Mary Magdalene frequently spoke of whilst she was “getting freaky” with Grimace. It was a very cold cold night and Jesus’ and Puxatony Phil’s spaceship hit an iceberg. Suddenly everyone on board began to fight with each other about who was going to get on the rescue boats and who was going to do pencil sketches of Kate Winslet’s bare breasts. After baby Jesus and Puxatony Phil played “We Don’t Give a *** Let the Mother F*cker Burn. Burn Mother F*cker, Burn” with some of the other violinists, they snuck onto the Pinta and the Santa Maria (they took separate boats because they were fighting at the time) and set sail to what they thought was the Warp Zone from Super Mario Brother’s Part One. Little did they know they would wind up reaching the United States, which was only called “The States” back then, and they bitch-slapped and raped some Indians. And that, my friends, is how we ended up eating turkey and pumpkin pie.