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Saturday, March 06, 2004

Interview with the Blushing Turkey.

Maktaaq: How many times have you been shot at?

Blushing Turkey: On the way to this coffee shop, only five times. Of course, getting out of my car in the parking lot, some monster truck almost ran me over.

Maktaaq: Do you ever feel hated?

Blushing Turkey: Well, Maktaaq, I know rednecks love to caress my taxidermied friends that are hanging on their walls in rigor mortis flight. Obviously someone would love to have me motionless on their dinner table. Yet, despite the closeness between some rednecks and their dead turkey pets, I still feel unloved. It's as if white trash only loves me for my feathers.

Maktaaq: Would you say your self-esteem is at an all-time low?

Blushing Turkey: Definitely. Ever since that bushy-faced guy was hunted down in that Middle Eastern country, I have been thinking, "If even a human has no chance, what about a lightweight species like me?" Recently I have even lost interest in my girlfriend Esmeralda.

Maktaaq: That's bad. For our non-Anglo-Saxon-gun-carrying readers, can you tell us a little about those fill-in-the-blanks at the bottom of your picture?

Blushing Turkey: Yeah, rednecks record the time, the rifle used, ammunition, and whether or not they scored afterwards with their sisters. Yards refers to how many backyards they had to shoot through. The Choke space is for detailing the costume jewellry worn during target practice. A lot of rednecks keep these in scrapbooks.

Maktaaq: Do you have any hopes for the future?

Blushing Turkey: I want a new career. I signed up for a certificate program in massage therapy, so maybe rednecks will stop shooting me when I am a certified massage therapist.

Maktaaq: Good luck, Blushing Turkey, and thanks for your time.

Blushing Turkey: Thanks.

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