Curse of the Pilgrim's Tomb

Happy holidays meat vessels, I’ve not really done any demographic surveys so I don’t really know what my target audience is. So until I do, I shall refer to you people as meat vessels. If you find that offensive, than you’ve got more problems than you are willing to admit and should probably seek medical help. Your self esteem issues aside, I thought that since the holidays are fast approaching (my birthday being the most jubilant of them all, Kwanza being a close second) that I’d give my input on the first holiday in this festive season, Thanksgiving. And no, I don’t like Halloween so I don’t recognize it as the start of the holiday season.

To start, lets go on a magical trip through time to the first thanksgiving. Back when people killed entire civilizations with blankets and didn’t have a need for those pesky guns. (Hey gun enthusiasts, you don’t see blanket carriers bitching about the price of quilting fabric) Those pilgrims really knew how to throw a party, they’d get rid of their normal attire of all black and belt buckles all over their bodies for….all black and belt buckles all over their bodies…..they were the first Goths really, all “I’m religiously oppressed! I’m gonna go over yonder and burn people cause they may be different.” Except that Goths don’t burn people. Anywho, our belt buckled friends invited the savage Injuns (that’s what they said back then, plus I’m part Cherokee, I can say that) and ate such things as turkey and pumpkin pie, and all the other stereotypical Thanksgiving day food items, followed of course by the Ye Olde Macy’s Parade, temporarily forgetting how they intended to forcibly take over the lands and brutalize the native Americans for a day.

Lets jump forward to now. Gone are the days of belt buckles on our hats, although it could come back into fashion, ya never know. And with the exceptions of food and the Macy’s Parade, no longer do we commit blanket warfare (woo 2nd amendment!) Instead we force small children to cover their hands in paint and make “turkey” pictures, and then recite about how we are thankful for something. Personally if I’m thankful for something, I don’t wait for one day a year to say “hey, I’m thankful!” Call me a rebel, I just do that. We have also chosen a really crappy mascot for this holiday. Compared to the other holidays, Thanksgiving gets the shaft. I mean think about it, Christmas gets Santa, Easter gets a giant bunny, St. Patrick’s day gets a drunk Irish midget, and 4th of July gets explosives (valentines day gives you a case of herpes) What does thanksgiving get? A creepy ass bird. And they are anything but pleasant creatures. I sat down with an expert on turkeys, my sister Jacquelyn Eighmy (she has a Denny’s placemat that says she’s an Avian Biologist) and she can attest that turkeys not only plot against us, but create huge balls of poop. Her words not mine.

Since we are on the subject of turkey, I would like to say, I hate turkey. I would rather have lunch with George W. Bush at the Eiffel tower than eat turkey. Call me a rebel, but I find it a rather gamey tasting creature. I also dislike potatoes and the various casseroles (its called casseroles you Minnesotan freaks, what the fuck is a hot dish? Seriously, casserole) But I do enjoy stove top stuffing and the pumpkin pie. So while the rest of you meat vessels spend hours and hours trying to make a freakish bird that you will no doubt ruin in the process, I will spend 20 minutes making a delicious pizza that will not be ruined, which I will follow up with a desert of ice cream and gummy bears.

Tune in next week for “Death of a Salesman” will I try to sell you something or will I try to recreate a famous production? You be the judge.