The Thanksgiving story as told by my drunk Uncle Elzie, November 22, 1967... A long time ago way before the formation of the group "Deep Purple", the Lord and some of his pilgrim buddies came to America on a moving van and three ships, The Mayflower, The Pinta, and the Edmond Fitzgerald.
They landed in America, met a bunch of Indians, and they all ate corn and played touch football. The Lord got sandwiched on a square out pattern and was knocked unconscious. He woke up an hour later and seen his shadow and the Indians knew they were in for a long winter.
The pilgrims then gave thanks for their new land and made a sign and hung it on Plymouth rock. It simply said "No Queers". After that, they all ate turkey and told Pollock jokes. The End. After that story my uncle stumbled out the door into the street where he was broadsided and killed by a big rig.
