Damien Galeone

I could just cut to the chase: You are stuffing your throat with the best food on Earth and I am teaching people the definite article in a chalk-covered sweater vest. But I’d rather draw out my temporary disdain for all of you Thanksgiving revelers in a short blog post.

So enjoy this list. And if you are in the U.S., I hope you choke on it! (…the list, not the food)

Job Satisfaction

Unless you work at Walmart, you don’t have to go to work today. Your job is to sit on your rump, eat, drink, and watch football. Some of you have to cut a turkey; others have to cook the turkey. I don’t care which one of these people you are, for today – I hate you all.

Today, I have to go to work. I have to put on pants – real pants, not pajama pants, not eatin’ pants with an elastic waist. I have to iron my sweater vest. I am writing this over a cup of coffee, glaring outside through frosted windows and imagining my 45 minute commute.

Most depressingly, this means that I won’t spend my day drinking beer, eating carbohydrates, and watching large men smash each other’s tiny brains out on TV. Worse still, every student I teach today will say something like, “Hey, isn’t today some holiday?”

Oh yes. It is.

Food and Drink

I can just imagine the table now. There’s the turkey, corn, and a mountain of mashed potatoes. Then there are yams, yams, yams as far as the eye can see, and a can-shaped slab of cranberry sauce. There’s stuffing, a food efficiently named after its role.

There are so many politically correct groans concerning Thanksgiving. The settlers screwed the entire North American continent; it’s all a big myth; it’s all kitsch; blah blah blah. You do not think about these things when you’re gazing at the comfort food feast that is Thanksgiving dinner.

And if you are so cavalier, I’d be happy to trade my ham sandwich and pretzel stick lunch for your feast. So shut up.

Drunken Relatives

Most of knows what happens when you mix wine, beer, and the occasional shot. But what happens when you mix wine, beer, the occasional shot, and being forced into close proximity with your entire family? Oh yes, it is on.

There is no stronger impetus for drinking than being in a house with your family. And inevitably, someone has to become the party boob. What’s more fun than watching your great aunt make out with a bag of frozen spinach or your uncle do the waltz with the coat-rack?

Nothing. The answer is nothing.

The Coma

I enjoyed 29 Thanksgivings before moving to a place where ‘thanks giving’ was a grammatical mistake. And on each one of them, I would finish eating enough food to kill a normal one-stomached man, lethargically mosey from the table, find my way to the nearest couch, armchair, or rug, and take the most enjoyable nap in the history of laziness.

There’s just so much food and your body only has so much ability to process it. All the blood rushes away from your head and extremities to your stomach in order to accomplish this DEFCON 1 body alert, so in the meantime you are left in a state of utter relaxation.

Oh yeah, and there was probably booze too.

People of America – enjoy that coma today, you are napping for two!