Thanksgiving

T-Day is always satisfying for me. As a "fine figure of a man", an English achronism for a portly soul, I take great pride in enjoying the feast in spectacular fashion. I'm not quite up to Bob's standard (See Bill Murray in 'What About Bob?' ) but I do enjoy it so.

One of my particular delights is that without my gall bladder (removed about 10 years ago) I can't process big, fatty meals. Fatty foods go down my gullet with all the satisfaction of mortal beings everywhere. They pass through my stomach and get drenched in acid, squeezed and churned as other people know. They leave sugars, carbs, and proteins in the small tubules just as they should, but without bile to break the fats into separate pieces, it remains as large puddles of fat which cannot be absorbed in any place. When it hits the large pipe, it is almost like hitting the handle in the loo (although that actually comes later). Whoosh and down it goes! I get to eat fatty foods and I don't get much of it to inhabit my blood vessels, and that is why I do adore Thanksgiving.

Of course, I also enjoy watching football on that day. And a nap.