TEAM LAST CALL

I personally have a lot of things to be grateful for this year – my family and friends, my Chihuahua, my millions of dollars, my TV show, my porn career …

Oh, wait! I’m sorry, that’s Paris Hilton’s list.

My list would include things like my family, my friends, my iPod whichever of my pets is not the one pooping in my slippers, and Eva Longoria. Plus my wife. But if I had to rank all of the things I’m grateful for in order of sheer awesomeness, at the top of my list would have to be the pineapple chicken wrap.

I discovered the pineapple chicken wrap about a year ago at a local sandwich shop, which, out of deference to our advertisers, I will not name in this article. Let’s just say that it starts with an “S,” ends with a “Y” and rhymes with “Shmandwich Shmactory.”

It’s hard to overestimate the kind of impact the pineapple chicken wrap has had on my life over the past 12 months. It’s taught me how to laugh, how to love and, perhaps most importantly, how to eat lunch for under five bucks.

And so, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I would like to take this time to pay tribute to the wrap, the most beautiful and wondrous of God’s creations.

It’s an ambitious endeavor to try to capture the power and the glory of the pineapple chicken wrap in words. Its beauty transcends language. Attempting to describe it in a single thousand-word column is as futile as trying to summarize Tommy Lee’s entire sexual history in a haiku.

The overwhelming deliciousness of the pineapple chicken wrap is nearly too much for the human mind to comprehend. It’s like staring at the sun with your brain. It’s just one of those baffling concepts – like how scientists can grow a real human baby in a test tube, or how Ben Affleck keeps landing acting roles – that no one fully understands.

The pineapple chicken wrap breaks down to a list of simple ingredients – juicy pineapple wedges, grilled chicken, Swiss cheese, sweet honey mustard, ham. But the pineapple chicken wrap is much more than just the sum of its parts. It has that same intangible quality you can see in a major-label band; together, the members can accomplish things that none of them could have accomplished alone. Unless the major-label band you’re talking about is Nickelback, which defies logic by somehow being even less than the sum of its parts. The members have the collective IQ of a pair of underpants. And that singer really needs to get rid of his perm. It’s hair-ible. (Nice one!) But that’s neither here nor hair. (Again!)

If the pineapple chicken wrap ever ran for president, I’d vote for it. I think it would have a pretty decent chance of winning, too. Not only is it good-looking and delicious, but it could out-debate the current president on just about every topic I can think of.

In addition to being a natural leader, the pineapple chicken wrap is something of a spiritual touchstone. It spreads peace and joy wherever it goes, like the pope, but without the cool hat. Whenever I enjoy a delicious pineapple chicken wrap, I am filled with serenity. I am tranquil. I am at one with nature. I am accepting of my surroundings, even when those surroundings include coworkers who insist on listening to Nickelback.

Don’t tell my wife I said this, but if the pineapple chicken wrap had legs, I’d probably try to marry it. We’d go on romantic vacations together, travel the world, build a house, start a family. And if it ever got fussy, I’d eat it.

If I were stranded on a desert island and could only bring five things with me, those five things would be, in this order: my iPod, my new corduroy jacket (so I can look fashionable when I’m rescued), a pineapple, a chicken and a wrap. I’d want my wife on the island too, so make that six things. And our little Jack Russell would be there. And a plasma-screen TV. And a computer with a high-speed internet connection. And a powerful record executive who wanted to give me a lucrative five-album contract and unlimited access to the company jet.

What? It’s my article …

In the past, some of my readers have accused me of exaggerating in my columns, of “embellishing” the “truth” just to get a “cheap laugh.” To those “people,” I have this to say: Yeah, totally, I do that. But this is not one of those times. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been more serious about anything in my entire life. Except my new corduroy jacket. It fits just right around the shoulders and has a slimming effect that I just can’t find in other fall-weather jackets. I stole it from my wife’s closet.

But I’m serious about pineapple chicken wraps too. Deadly serious. I’d tell you to go purchase a wrap right now if I could, but I can’t, since it would anger our advertisers and jeopardize my job. So instead, I’ll just ell-tay you to go urchase-pay an ap-wray right ow-nay. Wink, wink.

Happy anskgiving-Thay!