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Hogspore News
                                                           Hogspore News from the Ozarks
                                                                           By Clet Litter
                                    Roasted birds looked like '70s Pittsburg Steeler's steel curtain

    Hardy Barkins had four dressed-out turkeys that customers never picked up. He invited me and the
Missus, along with the Trubletoof’s and Suspenders’ over for a Thanksgiving feast. Those four plump
roasted birds were sitting there on the sideboard looking like the 1970s Pittsburg Steelers Steel Curtain.

     Hardy made a joke about his 10-quart crock-pot of turkey giblet gravy being the Hogspore Super Bowl.
We laughed cause it was his house, but mostly, we was just real hungry. He gave us one of the quickest
blessings I ever heard. He thanked the Lord, give a snappy Amen, and we was all starving
NASCAR drivers, moving fast.

     The dinner began with the clicking of forks and knives working their way through mashed taters,
cornbread, sweet taters, big hot yeast rolls, real butter, cranberry jelly, stuffing, a squash-bacon-onion
deal, white meat, dark meat, followed by a funeral-like processional through some tough tendons and
cartilage. There weren’t no talking and we didn’t have napkins cause they’re just speed bumps for

     The second helping started without much let up in the action. Morton Trubletoof led off the third
helpings and things slowed down. We was complaining that the silverware was getting heavy.

     Sara Suspender was still eating, till the menfolk commenced broadcasting groaning sounds that
Grandpappy used to make. We all got up slowly and lumbered on into the living room.

     Nobody could bend over to pick up the TV remote control from the coffee table. A little kid that no
one knew come by and snapped on the Cartoon Channel. The husbands fell asleep while Charlie Brown’s
Thanksgiving Special played all afternoon. That’s the one where Charlie Brown ends it all cause nobody
liked him.

     The gents woke up during the Charlie Brown eulogy and then it was Pie Time. Five punkin pies fell
under the serving knife. The appetites were all back, but we forgot the homemade whipped cream was
still in the kitchen. That’s what seconds are for.

     We all left around 10 PM whilst Hardy Barkins was parking the bathroom scale out in the barn for
a while.

     Mel Tillis Rest in Peace

     You can contact Clet Litter at  

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Bob Simpson
Largo, Florida
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