A Shout Out to Miles Standish

Did you ever notice that there aren't any Thanksgiving songs. I'm not complaining, I'm just saying that you'll never see Jessica Simpson put out a Thanksgiving album as a way to make a quick, untalented buck.

But Thanksgiving does offer a lot of other things, especially in Texas. There's the unreasonably warm weather, the Cowboys game, and, in my family, an opportunity to learn about the proper time to castrate a goat (thanks, Uncle Wayne).

As is the custon during the time we celebrate a ficticious meal that supposedly took place between smallpox-bearing refugees escpaing religious persecution and "natives" who actually just croseed over the Alaskan landbridge a kerbillion years before the 1600s, I would like to give thanks. And enjoy a chicken cordon blue sandwich from Jack in the Box.

I am thankful...
- that Friday morning classes are really just the last stop on Thursday night.
- for OT wins over agricultural schools in College Station.
- that Desparate Housewives airs on the one night no one goes out.
- that Marissa finally came to her senses and gave up on Ryan (or did she?).
- for the book found on one of the fifth floor tables: Gentleman's Clubs of London.
- for people who lack self-censorship.
- that kids still make turkeys out of the shape of their hand.
- for Gallager and The Squeeze.
- that I am not a woman, but I am also thankful that they are much better looking than I am.
- that Steven Seagal's career lives on through straight-to-video releases and the USA Network.
- for porch-drinking.
- that I haven't had to bail anyone out of jail this semester.
- for cat-calls at Perry at 8:30 in the morning.
- for Sunday night poker (which needs to start again).
- that the girls who sit around me get bored in class and start looking at puppies.
- for the corner of Juan's dining room.
- that this will all be over soon and we will get a month-long holiday where we never have to say that we should be reading.