I am thankful that I like smoked gouda better than regular gouda.
I am thankful that people I knew in high school remember me as the guy with the limp.
I am thankful for the small grey man in my basement, who wears nothing but patchy, scratchy tufts of fur, and who insists that I regularly post cheerful messages in time with his demented calendar schedule.
I am thankful for the fish I caught which promised me a wish if I would let it go. It was delicious.
I am thankful that my office has staples but no stapler.
I am thankful for my great-great-great-grandfather, who worked as a philosopher specifically to gain superpowers. He's transcendentally real.
I am thankful for farm animals. Thousands of them. I cannot breathe.
I am thankful for my magnesium torch. I do not like sandy beaches nearly so much as I like water against smooth glass.
I am thankful for the priests and their massively parallel military-grade supercomputers.
I am thankful for my hats. Without them, I could not join the Circus of the Undead.