Thanksgiving, a history.

 One brutal and fucked up morning, a bunch of very hungry people woke up with an unquenchable hatred and a thirst for violence. So what they did, let me tell you, was incredibly fucked up. 

Every day they heard the menacing gobble-gobbles of sure-footed fat birds. The village children trembled when they heard the ruffling of feathers and the swinging of that flappy red thing on their beaks. And the squawking -- don't get me started on the squawking. These fat birds fucked and fought at the same volume: loud. It sounded like babies screaming or cats screaming or if a dog sounded like a baby screaming. 

The village had had enough. When they woke up that morning, they knew. They looked at each other very knowingly. Some villagers even winked at each other. Some of them licked their lips and some of them did the universal sign for eating pussy. But they all knew what they were actually saying to each other: them turkeys are done. The village agreed to commit violence. 

One by one, those fat birds were picked off with muskets, rocks, and whatever else was in grabbing distance for killing. One little psychopath, still too young even know how to spell poultry, tried stuffing one turkey into another turkey but he couldn't quite get it so he started stuffing smaller things into the turkey. His family watched in horror as he fingered away at his creation of morbid decadence. Their horror was no match for their hunger as they buried their faces into a perfectly cooked dish of depravity. This tradition continued for thousands of years until the humiliation behind the tradition was forgotten and we, as filthy Americans, salivate over a chicken stuffed into a duck stuffed into a turkey. 

People ask when it was that America lost its way. Was it the year Millard Fillmore changed his name from Hamburger Sweetmeat? Was it the year William Henry Harrison said in an interview that his beard doubles as a cock ring? Was it the year Bill Clinton revealed his tongue was actually a small creature from a faraway planet? No, friends. It was the first fucking Thanksgiving. That's when America lost its way. And that was pretty fucking early. Pretty much as soon as they arrived. 

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Paper Plates

Paper plate companies, I tell ya. Make them thicker. Make them not stick together. You're trying to sell me a 300 pack knowing full well the weight of my honey baked beans is too much for one measly plate. Just make them thicker. What's the big deal?

I don't even care about the price. I am at an age where I walk down an aisle of Costco and I choose the cheapest looking package of paper plates. Nevermind I have to buy a thousand of them. It used to be that I could slam the package down on the conveyer belt, look the cashier right in the eyes and say, "I don't even give a fuck how much this costs." I'm sheepish now; ground down to bleeding nubs by quarantines, isolation, and holding in coughs so hard I shit my pants. 

Sometimes you think the food you're piling on top of this paper plate is the right amount of food. It's not going to collapse the anus of the plate. Then you put it in the microwave and you realize you steamed that sucker so hard that it's definitely going to collapse the anus of the plate. So you grab another paper plate from the stack but it's stuck to another. You're using three paper plates for two fucking Morning Star Quorn Dawgs and you're contemplating throwing them on the ground only to hope you later trip on them and fall on them, sticks up, to gouge your eyes out. But you don't because somebody else might slip on your stupid corn dogs and you wouldn't be able to hold in your laugh as you eat the corn dog right off that other person's dead body. And all because of some paper plates.

Other kinds of plates break. I'm a wild man in the kitchen. I flail with abandon. I use multiple pieces of cutlery for one piece of food. I don't mind doing that. I don't mind the waste when I know I'm just going to be stuck washing it later. I mind the waste when it comes to paper plates though. I don't know why. All paper plates are waste. I bought them at the beginning of the pandemic so I wouldn't have to do so many goddamn dishes. I told myself I'd only do it once. I'd only take a month off of washing plates. The allure of laziness is intoxicating. I kept buying paper plates. 

Don't come at me with the mother nature blah blah blah. I feel bad every time I grab a paper plate to stack Doritos all over. I do it anyways. Some people drive their cars to their mailboxes. Go harass them. 

I think paper plates are bad business.