Arrrrr! That’s yer five-letter arr, me mateys, so be it. Shiver me handsome gobbler, ye rapscallions. It’s none other than yer favorite pirate turkey, Plansky, sailing into the scorched Oklahoma prairie with me ship filled with 300 pirate turkeys strong, all a hornpipe dancing as the rum flows. Arr! I’m here to bring me annual Planksgiving thanks and planks to the deserving crew this year. If ye get me thanks, then come aboard, mateys, and dip your cup in me personal rum barrel, gold plated with me signature “P,” a very nice touch if I do say so my pirate turkey self, and I do. But if you get me planks, take a blindfoldy walk on me springy board and take a nice swimmy with the toothy fishies. Arrr!
Thanks: Get yer cups, all ye Occupy OKC mateys and come aboard me ship. This goes for all ye Occupy mateys, who won’t sufferin’ no blarmy from the landlubbers. Ahoy, the lubbers and the bilge rats have taken all the treasure and no suffering fool, aye, will stand for it, get me drift? Aye, the media lubbers make fun of ye mateys when all ye wants are good jobs and a chance to sail, but the joke’s on them, me lads and lasses. So Occupy, O-C-C-U-P-Y, it’s yer mutiny, and it’s about time. Planksy, the none other, stands with ye in solidarity. Arrr! Love, Occupy Planksy.
Planks: Ahoy, what about these scurvy political rapscallions who want to stop taxing the rich in Oklahoma by ending the income tax. All this blarmey about Texas this, Texas that, Texas, Texas, Texas, “she’s a beauty with no income tax” and “why, take a swig of me grog, if Oklahoma doesn’t sail like Texas, aye, no treasure hunters will ever come here.” I call it what it is: blarmey, double blarmey and triple blarmey. Schools? The lubbers don’t care. Health care? The lubbers scoff. Aye, it’s saying one thing but meanin’ another. Who will benefit? The hoity toitys, aye, the aristocracy if ye will, and they won’t if they listen to Planksy. This is no treasure find, me mateys. It’s scurvy encrusted barnacles on a ship of doomy, dark doom. Abandon ship, all ye, if it happens. (But, sorry, the lubbers will say, there was no treasure left for a life boat.)
Thanks: Aye, are ye sitting down, me lads and lasses? Planksy hereby bestows me thanks this year on none other than U.S. Sen. Tom Coburn, and before ye get all puffy, ye Planksy lovers, let me tell you why Tommy gets a cup from me barrel. Arrr! It seems Tommy, and I’ve called him a lubber in the past, told it almost like it is in his little report “Subsidies of the Rich and Famous.” Arrr! Is he an occupier? His point is the rich got it easy as the rest of us search for hidden treasure. Arrr! Here me out. I don’t think Tommy’s gone Jolly Roger, if ye get me drift, but what’s one dance to the hornpipe, aye. Here’s a raise of my cup and a toast: To Tommy, for a day, now clean the ideological barnacles from yer stunty ship, matey.
Planks: Shiver me beaky timbers from the bowels of the sea, me mateys. Where’s me OKC Thunder this year? KD? Buried beneath the sea? For that, it’s planks for the scurvy NBA owners, who want a larger slice of the treasure and lock us all out because, mateys, this is what they do: They own. Ahoy, maybe the owners could gather at the OKC arena soon, aye, and we could watch them own. Arrr! The owners, aye, have sailed too fast, and their anti-union cannon fire is the old tale of what Tommy (see above, me mateys) calls the “rich and famous.” Aye, what’s Mr. Clay Bennett got to say about all this blarmey? Are the glory days over for the Thunder? It’s barnacles, me lads and lasses, nothing but sad barnacles.
Thanks: Arrr! Me thanks go to none other than state Sen. Andrew Rice, who led the good fight for pirate turkeys everywhere, but, aye, now he’s sailing away from us, aye, it’s true. Mr. Rice was an inspiration for Oklahoma progressives, but, aye, the scurvy timing wasn’t right, and it’s the barnacles, isn’t it? So one more dance to the hornpipes, Andrew, one more dance. We’ll miss you, aye, and good luck to you and your family. Planksy and crew enjoyed workin’ with ye. Arrr!
Special Thanks: Aye, this one goes out to someone special. His beautiful gobbler sways in the soft, Oklahoma breeze, and his beak says it all to everyone everywhere. His patch screams fashion sense, and he’s the most glamorous pirate turkey to sail the seas here in Oklahoma, no lubber he, never. Arrr! Special thanks to myself, and don’t mind if I do take a swig or twenty from me rum barrel this year. Eat yer tofurkey with a twinkle in yer fork this year, me mateys, and happy Planksgiving!
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