The Turkey Awards paper has long been one of the most beloved traditions among Weekly staffers, second only to hourly cigarette breaks and lunches consisting of bite-size candy bars.

This annual ritual of lampooning the cowards, lackeys, layabouts and fools of Fort Worth is as dear to our hearts as the smell of fresh newsprint,  the satisfaction of a kick-ass scoop, or the thrill of discovering day-old kolaches abandoned in the kitchen.

So it is with a mix of joy and sadness that we must deliver one final, post-publication Turkey Award to the Star-Telegram, for its poorly executed, scatterbrained, spineless (and boneless) attempt at delivering some Turkey Awards of its own.

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    • Going under water, Casey? You asleep at the wheel? For a few years past, the Startle-Gram hasn’t been worth a pop-corn fart, and nothing indicates it’ll do any better. It’s been as useless as teats on a boer hog for many years now. Adios and God-Speed.