Tickling Fancy

A deck short of a card and a duck call closer to victory...

Foot binding a Sasquatch could be both fun and educational as long as you remember that they like peanut butter and show up fuzzy on thermal imaging cameras.

So we were on our way to the Hippies' Turkeys or was it the Turkeys' Hippies.  Either way we needed the practice and they needed the free labor.

I had heard of other operations where a person was paid by being allowed to keep what they can carry after the harvest was complete and quotas met.  In this case our pay would not ave to be wrapped in duct-tape and surrounded by coffee grounds. 

The management seemed nice enough and harmless in a sitar-playing-flip-flop-wearing sort of way.  We were greeted by a warm hug and medical release / liability waiver forms.  All was going as planned till I read the fine print and had to ask why accidental castration was included on the laundry list of possible injuries.  The simple answer I was given put a very disturbing and entertaining image in my head.  The hippie lawyer simply said that one of the crews that had volunteered last season was from a local nudist colony. 

All I could think of this response was, "that poor naked bastard"...

Each of us was issued a burlap sack and a pair of long leather gloves before being led down a hall to a large door which held behind it what I could only describe as a sea of flipp'n Thanksgiving.  The warehouse where they kept the feathered death-row candidates was knee deep and nut to butt turkeys.  The smell was almost as bad as the executive facilities (back alley) at our favorite watering hole.  If only we had the good sense to walk away, but then again this was us.  Picking up a frozen turkey at the grocery store is easy albeit awkward in comparison.  Our direction was to grab them by the feet and keep moving.  After a few minutes of diving into turkey crap we started getting the hang of it and were described as naturals by our hosts.  I am not too sure how proud I felt about the compliment, but one cannot have too many fall-back careers these days. 

A few hours into the harvest we were advised that the daily quota had been met and we were now collecting for us.  Uncertain of what we were going to do with our feathered quarry we decided to only grab a dozen or so and thank our day's managers for their hospitality. 

Once back at the ranch we decided to keep a few of the would-be dinners as companions for Pinky and deep fry the rest. 

Success is measured in hands and bushels.  Fear is measure in lost seat cushions.

When asked if you mind a comment preceded by "no offense"  say yes and you will feel like less of a tool...

Don't forget to wink at the next police officer you see or wave and blow kisses at the garbage truck.

Keep it strange my friends...