Have you ever seen...

... the movie "Slacker?" No? Well, don't worry, I haven't either, so I won't spoil the plot for you. The title of that movie does, however, provide an apt description of what I, your loyal author, have been over the past week or so. I feel that I owe all of you an apology. By being a slacker and not taking time out at work to write for your entertainment (something I am doing right now though) I have prevented you from taking time out of your work to be entertained. That is clearly an unacceptable oversight on my part, and I apologize.

Part of the problem, at least from my point of view, is a lack of things to write about. A good part of me wants to make this a serious blog, but that requires work, which contradicts everything you have learned about me in the preceding paragraph. Plus, that's not much fun, and how many of you would continue to read if I didn't provide "your mom jokes" to pass along to bemused co-workers? However, the other part of me wants to make this a completely pointless outlet for random thoughts that are meant to amuse. Because, in all honesty, who doesn't need to laugh at the image of a drunken moose mistakenly hitching himself to Santa's sleigh and falling to his death shortly after take-off from the North Pole? Nevermind how the moose got drunk (although I would assume it was a Canadian moose, and if anyone can name one thing to do in the frozen wasteland that is our neighbor to the north other than drink heavily, I'll happily amend this post), the point is that it's a funny image. The juxtaposition of death and the super jolly image of Santa is that perfect balance of irony and revulsion to strike at the funny bone of any well-adjusted adult, much like the little-appreciated cult classic "Pooh goes Apeshit."

Of course, now that I stop to think about which direction this post, and perhaps the blog as a whole should go, I've slacked so much that we come to Thanksgiving week, which means that tomorrow I abandon central Missouri for the seven hour drive to the heart of Oklahoma. So, before I say goodbye and wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving (except for Native Americans - I think they might still be a little bitter), I'd like to share a few thoughts on the state of Oklahoma. Well, really, there's only one overriding thought: Is it too late to give the state back to someone? I'm not picky about who. Native Americans, Mexico, Spain, France, it doesn't really matter to me. Seriously, if you've never been to Oklahoma, avoid it. Even if you are going somewhere and the fastest route would be through that state, I recommend spending the time and money necessary to go around it. Now, people I know from Oklahoma are nice. With only one or two exceptions, they seem like good people. They just happen to live in a part of the world God apparently was too bored with creation to care about. Only west Texas competes with (and beats) the ugliness that is Oklahoma. Yet, somehow Oklahoma is still able to advertise foliage tours! There are no trees in Oklahoma! Unless you count the growth-stunted shrub pines that are unlikely to change colors unless on fire (a distinct possibility in that arid environment). So, although I love my mother-in-law and her dogs dearly, this Thanksgiving I'm going to be thankful that I don't live in Oklahoma. Oh, and that Notre Dame football is back and going to destroy Southern Cal this weekend (even Jesus agrees).