Yesterday, President Trump did the annual pardoning of Thanksgiving turkeys (there were two this year, named "Bread" and "Butter"), and we're fairly positive that there must be a lot of people angry about this for whatever reasons they can cook up in their fevered minds ("Sure - he pardons white turkeys!")
We're looking forward to Thanksgiving with the Texas portion of our family tomorrow, overeating, and catching up on family news. And the Jarlsberg family has much to be grateful for this year, not the least of which is simply being together.
Since we're already prepping for the big day, we're going to share some of our favorite Thanksgiving leftover cartoons from years past, and wish all of you a great and meaningful Thanksgiving. It is a day to celebrate and show gratitude and humility for the many blessings bestowed on all of us, including our friendships (whether in person or meeting here in the electronic ether).
We weren't able to write a regular blog post for today owing to extenuating circumstances. Specifically, we had a wedding to attend (a very nice neighbor boy who we watched grow up) and the occasion demanded greater attention to grooming and fashion than is usually required for our grubby, hermit-like existence.
Seriously, one of the real delights of being self-employed and working from home is the extreme latitude one can apply to how many days of the week "casual Friday" can be observed. Not to mention how easily "casual" can then be defined down to "disheveled" without social repercussions.
But more was called for on this special day, which meant spending a lot more time getting ready than would be the case if we adhered to traditional standards of grooming and hygiene. For instance, we thought it best to trim our beard to look a bit less homeless and, for good measure, to shave off the weird "neck beard" which had already passed our adam's apple and had eyes on reaching our sternum. Hair trimmers were also applied to our sideburns in order to reveal the existence of ears on our noggin.
We then had a nice hot shower - a ritual which we perform borrowing a tradition from the Jewish rite of Shiva, in which all of the bathroom mirrors are covered. Not that we're ashamed of our body, exactly - we're just tired of paying to replace cracked mirrors.
Then it was time to dress, which presented its own unique challenges considering we don't own a lot of what the world considers to be "grown-up" clothes. Miraculously, we had a pair of black jeans which fit in a too tight, muffin-top producing way. If the brass button holding things together burst, we figured we could pass it off as a champagne cork exploding.
We had a nice long sleeved dress shirt which we had worn for an event some months ago and rehung without washing as being "probably okay." A sniff of the shirt's armpits was largely inoffensive, so there was another piece of the ensemble. The important bit was a proper looking sport coat, which we had purchased so recently that it actually fit.
This is something of a rarity, as we are so rarely called upon to wear that kind of thing that our average sport coat only sees the light of day at one or two funerals or rare business events before being squirreled away in the closet to gather dust and fall out of style, during which time we eat nuts and berries to store fat for the winter. And the other seasons.
In the end, we affected a natty enough look that the always stunning Mrs. J wasn't ashamed to be seen on our arm, and no one at the wedding laughed out loud - which is really all we can ask.
So our sartorial adventure had a satisfactory conclusion, but left us no time to delve deeply into current news events today. But fear not, our next fashion report will again be limited to which liar's pants are on fire now.
We feel like we're being somewhat derelict in our duty to report on the Schiff hearings, but to the best of our knowledge, the cartoon above sums things up pretty accurately.
The mainstream media keeps breathlessly announcing that one bombshell after another is dropping, any one of which could see Trump dragged screaming from the White House to a maximum security prison.
But when we consider the actual testimony, we're not hearing "bombshells" - we're hearing straining efforts to produce occasional plops and splashes...with exactly the accompanying scent you'd expect.
Apparently no one ever heard Trump say any of the things he's being accused of...but many people are still willing to go on record to say that they think Trump probably committed misdeeds, based on what these "witnesses" have heard from the media (which currently stands at 96% against Trump) rather than what they personally heard from the President's own lips.
The whole "impeachment hearing" process is a huge farce. And everyone knows how quickly farce can escalate into sharts.
Think we're overstating the scatological quality of these hearings? Then check out this actual video of Schiff's closing remarks from Thursday...
BONUS: BIDEN FAMILY VALUES
Like father, like scum.
With all of the arm-flapping, spin, and misdirection of the Schiff hearings, people haven't been paying enough attention to one of the case's central matters: determining just how much of a corrupt sleazebag Joe Biden's son Hunter really is.
Granted, we already knew that he'd been thrown out of the military for drug use. That he'd been in rehab multiple times. That he was siphoning off huge sums of money on various boards (including in Ukraine) to give people quid pro quo access to his father.
We even knew that Hunter Biden left his wife in order to start banging his dead brother's widow. But thanks to a recent DNA test, we now know that while Hunter was cheating on his wife, and enjoying some kind of necrophiliac incest with his sister-in-law, he was also shtupping a young woman in Arkansas who he knocked up, then lied about ever having had sex with her.
The legally-mandated DNA test came about because Biden had stopped making support payments to the mother and child, which is especially tacky considering the millions of dollars in graft money finding its way into his bank accounts.
Presumably, the mother and child will no longer have financial worries, even if Hunter won't cough up any dough. After all, now that his lineage has been proved, Joe Biden's new grandson can start sitting on the boards (using a booster seat) of some of the world's most corrupt companies.
