Last November, I dedicated this column to things for which I gave thanks. Since no one told me that it sucked, I figured I’d do it again this year. Who knows, it might be the beginning of a tradition that’s just slightly less entertaining than the old Perry Como Christmas specials.

First of all, I’m thankful that Louisiana voters were able to look beyond skin color and elect Bobby Jindal (aka “The Great Brown Hope”). Perhaps all the ensuing reports around the world about our state having the country’s first governor of Indian descent will offset all the coverage we received about the Jena 6.

I’m thankful that, even though I’ll still have to pay through the nose for gasoline, I won’t have to see Bob Odom’s name on the pump anymore.

I’m thankful that the Louisiana Family Forum, led by former City Court Judge Darrell White, masterfully mixed fear and hyperbole in defeating One Baton Rouge’s “open” resolution by playing the pedophilia and bestiality cards. Lord knows, we already have enough people around here having sex with underage pigs and cows at frat parties.

I’m thankful that government and business leaders in the Baton Rouge area continue to visit other cities, like Portland and Austin, to remind us how uncool Baton Rouge really is.

I’m thankful that my livelihood is not dependent on the real estate market.

I’m thankful that not a single public office seeker spent a red cent on advertising in Red Shtick Magazine this election cycle. Fortunately, for the next four years, we won’t feel an ounce of guilt when we lampoon the snot out of them when they do or say something boneheaded.

I’m thankful that most Red Shtick readers are sharp enough to realize that some of our issues feature covers that are stand-alone spoofs and, thus, do not have accompanying articles inside. Conversely, I’m also thankful that our readers don’t hold us to so high a standard that I can get away with this “giving thanks” bit two years in a row.

As a publisher, I’m thankful that I’m not a media mogul with a rapidly expanding empire and a penchant for geographically based, numerical names for each of his new magazines. Otherwise, for my next local publication, I might have to resort to 30.34N by 91.15W.

I’m thankful that Senator Cleo Fields has a sense of humor about last month’s cover. In fact, he said it was the “best and funniest depiction” of him that he’s seen. I have to admit, though, my pucker factor spiked for a moment when he called to request a copy for his “wall of shame.”

I’m thankful that so many humble guys in Baton Rouge, who are purportedly proficient in the romance department, have generously offered to “help” our “Relationship Rhetoric” writer Scarlett Davis “rectify” her “issues.” These hombres make me proud to be a man.

I’m thankful that the New Orleans Saints are no longer mentioned when the subject of “the biggest disappointment in the NFL” arises.

I’m thankful that I have a cardiovascular system sufficiently strong to handle all the thrilling finishes of LSU football games this season.

I’m thankful that LSU quarterback Matt Flynn makes headlines solely in the sports section and not in the police beat.

I’m thankful that the city of New Orleans has a district attorney that is so compassionate that, not only does he fail to convict a vast majority of the accused criminals there, he also reportedly houses fugitives in his home.

I’m thankful that a majority of our readers know when I’m being a smartass.

I’m thankful this article is done, because I’m out of things to be thankful for.