So tonight I was sitting in front of my computer diligently searching randomly for "chicken backpacks", "show tunes sung by farm animals", "why I would date Edward Cullen" and "shrimp" when Jon said, "I don't understand your turkey poster. And, um, why is it hung in my office?"
Exactly. That was my first reaction too. But, to be fair, Jon's definition of awesome is a little skewed. I mean, currently he's watching Korean sword demonstrations on YouTube. (Which I can only assume are posted by Korea's version of The Society for Creative Anachronism.) So, yeah. Not the world's hippest man. I mean, the guy hasn't even seen Twilight! (collective gasp!)
Now, I know you guys know why my TURKEY! poster is awesome. I mean, you make morada siamang references and flash your blingy ring watches all around your neighborhood while chugging coffee and debating the similarities and differences between Michael Pericoloso and Starburns. But Jon? He's just not as culturally relevant as the rest of us. I blame the computers. They aren't all mildly entertaining blogged drivel and cute dancing penguins. They're also geek MakerBots.
So, Jon. This one is for you! (insert cheesy gun point and wink here, also, note to self: wear mint green lounge suit)
First, it's not a turkey poster. It's a TURKEY! poster. Huge difference there dude. Plus it's awesome.
It's awesome because one day when I was six my parents took me to Vegas where they had an all night skee ball tournament. It was EPIC! Tickets were shooting out of my skee ball machine faster than a cheetah with the Hershey squirts. Then, as the early morning began to peak over that rhinestoned horizon I corralled all my tickets and traded them in for the most awesome poster in the world! Plus, my sister rolled her eyes when I hugged it tight in my wee little arms. Best. Poster. EVER.*
Fast forward nine years later (Don't do the math. It's just embarrassing.) and there I am, happily sleeping my nights away in my room decorated with not only my TURKEY! poster but, The Declaration of Independence, two wolf posters, an original poem written by me in fifth grade, a cow mobile, a picture of a cat, and a huge "Welcome To Lake Havasu" poster. Obviously my dream room. Then, my sister (you remember her, the eye roller? Yeah. That one.) walks by and says, "You need to redecorate." Then, before I even knew what was happening I was sleeping in a room with lace curtains, pink book shelves, and every cat poster she could find. Cats on ladders. Cats in trees. Cats in paint cans. Cats on books. Cats in hats. Cats on rustic benches. Cats with yarn. Cats racing through fields of buttercups. It was like living in Lolcats. But with pink rose sheets. My TURKEY! poster? Gone. Tossed aside in the mad shuffle to tack one more fluffy kitten to my bedroom walls.
Fast forward eight years later and I'm packing up my room after college graduation, when, I see it, tucked in the corner of my Barbie cluttered closet, rising from the ashes like some mythological beast of spirit and fire, tail feathers of gold, waddle of incarnadine, my TURKEY! poster reborn anew to live again!
And, that, Jon, is why the TURKEY! poster is the embodiment of all that is awesome. Everyone should be so lucky to have a copy of TURKEY! in their office. Plus the color of your office walls really bring out the amber tints in TURKEY!'s eyes.
*This is either the true story of how I got my TURKEY! poster or there were aliens involved. And angels. But not Elvis, because that would be stupid.