A Thanksgiving Prayer
Dear Lord, please let Elon Musk become trapped in the bed of one of his Cybertrucks for a prolonged enough period of time so that when they eventually locate his remains he's reduced to a desiccated husk laying on his back like a big old cockroach. And while you're at it, Lord, please have him discovered wearing nothing but Spider-Man underpants.
Also, dear Lord, please arrange it so that Steve Bannon lapses into a persistent vegetative state after a giant "T" from one of Trump's foreclosed buildings breaks off and crashes down onto a nearby hot dog cart whereupon the explosive release of a half-dozen frozen wieners catches him right in the temporal lobe.
Oh, and while I've got your ear, Lord, please let Vladimir Putin, Bibi Netanyahu, the Freedom Caucus and all of the rapture-ready assholes on the executive board of the Heritage Foundation simultaneously undergo spontaneous human combustion within the next half-hour so that I can have something to enjoy when I watch the news after the game.
And, in closing Lord, if you could secrete a tiny smidgen of human feces into random Diet Cokes that Donald Trump drinks, not enough for him to actually notice by taste or smell but enough to ensure a daily core breech of his gut microbiome for the rest of his unnatural life, I would be forever in your debt.
And please take care of America's migrant families, Lord, as you and the ACLU are about all they've got. I realize that actually answering prayers that might help anyone is not really something you do, and that the ACLU will be doing all the heavy lifting in this regard, but it doesn't hurt to ask.
For this I pray, oh Lord. Over and out, twenty-three skidoo and Amen.
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Just for fun, re-read the prayer above in George Carlin's voice.
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Today's Retread-O-Matic comic is from February 20, 2019. I'll be back on Friday. Hope to see you here. Happy Thanksgiving, fellow Enemies Within.
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Lefty
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