Fuck Regular Thanksgiving

What are the best aspects of Thanksgiving? 

That’s right: Eating, turkey (the right parts), fireplace, leftovers, orange.

And the worst aspects?

That’s right: “How’s school?”, sharing things, being thankful, turkey (the wrong parts), 

… matching napkins, pondering the family smell, wondering “Are we going to say Grace? Should I not have started eating? What’s Grandma doing with her hands? Ah fuck, yep,” cranberry sauce, chair won’t stop squeaking, the sound of people chewing and nothing else, it’s not even a sauce it’s literally an evil cylinder of sanguine jello, I am NOT putting that “sauce” on my food please don’t hand me that spoon,

… stilted conversations about politics, no longer stilted conversations about politics, resenting David for his success in medical school, stupid greedy David taking the last biscuit, no David I wasn’t talking to you, can we all calm down, well sorry if I sound rude but you’re the one who doesn’t know how to craft a logical argument, bold words from the man who took all of the white meat and left me with all the stupid dark meat, having to eat a wing as your family gorges on delicious breast soaked with gravy,

… do you think I’m a PEASANT, who enjoys licking the bones clean to extract from them any caloric substance, to look up at you with dewy eyes through my tousled, ashen hair, gathering all the courage I possess in my poverty-stricken body to manage a feeble, “Please sir, I want some more”?,

…STRAINING to cut what little “meat” resides on the wing because I will not stoop to grabbing it with my fingers and succumbing to an Oliver Twist fate, I will not be Tiny Tim nor Jack sans beanstalk, NO I will take every Thanksgiving appliance in my autumnal arsenal and begin my Tarantino-esque Thanksgiving revenge for the slights done to my body, return to the spirit realm to heal the spiritual imbalance you caused by taking advantage of my courteous manner when I served you first as you kept saying “more… more…” until all the succulent white meat was on your dirty, dirty plate. 

Also, floss—I always have to floss after Thanksgiving but never have any on hand.

Generally, I prefer lockdown.