My Uncle Dennis joined us for Thanksgiving this year and I asked him to say grace, just before we tore the limbs off a giant bird and ate them. Uncle Dennis delivered a very nice blessing. Here are a few of his thoughts that I jotted down:
Thank you, oh Lord, for making Mitt Romney's voice stop coming out of my television 24 hours a day. I was thinking of killing myself.
Speaking of television, Lord, would it be possible for you to make the TV stations here in our village of Possum Hollow, I mean Colorado Springs, maybe bring us just a few more stories about mobile-home fires and feral dogs?
And thank you for the revelations into Gen. David Petraeus' affair. We'd been wondering why Paula Broadwell had those impressions of the Legion of Merit medal and the Bronze Star on her forehead. This clears that up, Lord.
And thank you, dear God, for the related story about Marine Gen. John "Semper Infidelis" Allen and that woman he was sending all those e-mails, Jill Kelley of Tampa, Fla. Is it just me, Lord, or does Mrs. Kelley look a little like Knute Rockne with a facelift?
Here's another question, Lord. What the heck was with that confrontation between Gazette reporter Dave Philipps and wrinkly old Interior Secretary Ken Salazar? As I understand it, Lord, the old guy in the ridiculous cowgirl hat threatened to "punch out" the reporter because Philipps had the audacity to ask the nation's Interior secretary about wild-horse slaughter. It was almost like Mr. Salazar had something to hide.
And I'm sure you know more about this and, frankly, more about everything — although my wife might give you a run for your money there, Lord — but we've heard the extended Salazar family tried to forget the whole ugly incident when they gathered at their table and watched Uncle Ken carve the horse.
(And this is just what I heard, Lord, but did ol' Howdy Doody, side-saddle Ken really throw out his back trying to lift the wild horse's "drumstick"?)
Anyway, thank you, Lord, for this wonderful place we call home in the foothills of your Rocky Mountains. Although recently I've been wondering why there are so many Romney/Ryan campaign signs still littering up the place.
And why, Lord, haven't people scraped those Romney bumper stickers off their cars yet? Is it because the Republicans think if they pray harder to you, Lord, the election will be overturned and President Obama will have to go back to Kenya, where he came from?
Oh, and is pregnancy-inducing rape really a blessing from you, Lord, like leading Republicans Rick Santorum and Richard Mourdock said? Or were they just at the back of the line when you were handing out brains?
On a personal note, Lord, sorry I kept calling out your name and your kid's name (I may have even dragged Mary and Joseph into it) when I was playing golf last Tuesday. I am deeply, deeply sorry. It's just that, well, Lord, you spend $650 on a new set of clubs and you don't expect to hit THREE $%^&*# BALLS INTO THE LAKE ON THE 14th HOLE!!!!!
Oops. I apologize again, Lord.
Speaking of hypocrites, Lord, how come in a village like this, with all the loud, self-proclaimed Bible-toting Christians, all cutting each other off in the church parking lots to get the good parking spaces, well, Lord, how come they all hate homeless people? Didn't you once say something along the lines of, "Whatsoever you do to the least of my brethren, you do unto me?"
And while we're talking about religious loons and extreme right-wing Republicans giving our village such a lousy image that businesses won't come here, thank you, Lord, for giving us an airport that is not congested with all those stupid airplanes like other airports.
And I don't want to beat a dead horse, Lord (unlike Girl-Hat Salazar), but is it true that when Gen. Petraeus hopped into the sack with Mrs. Broadwell he would shout, "OK, who wants to see my pilotless drone?"
Anyway, thanks for listening, Lord. Oh, and thanks for the cranberry sauce.
Rich Tosches (email@example.com) also writes a Sunday column for the Denver Post.