I’m just about to leave for the airport—I’m going home to NYC for Thanksgiving! Derek’s coming with, and we plan to visit various galleries, eat ourselves silly at various dining establishments, and see at least one million films that will never hit the screens of northwest Arkansas.
In anticipation of this most esteemed and food-centric of national holidays, I offer, behind the cut, the bawdy limerick D wrote in honor of the culinary phenomenon that is turducken.
There once was a dish called turduckin.
It’s kinda like poultry is fuckin.
The turkey spreads wide,
The birds go inside,
And then there’s some muffled cluckin.