At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Thursday, November 28, 2013


Even if I wanted to do a traditional Thanksgiving today, it wouldn't have been possible. All of yesterday evening my apartment mate monopolized the kitchen doing prep work, this morning she was up at the crack of dawn (six o'clock), doing more. She blew out of the house in mid-morning, bearing food food food food and more food.

Her siblings and her boyfriend are going to have a fabulous feast, albeit on different days. They are separate but equal.

She left earlier than I had expected. The apartment was quite empty and peaceful before noon.

On television, some dipwad was talking about Vegan Cornbread stuffing. It's, like, "super-good!"

There is NOTHING traditional about Vegan Cornbread Stuffing!
Or good. Not today. Maybe some other time.

Thanksgiving is supposed to be about all the family getting whacked out of their gourd on animal fat, sugar, and tryptophan. Then vegging out in front of the boob tube watching stupid holiday programs. Perhaps having some liquor, and gossiping about which unlovable and uninvited relative is sleeping with who or what (or not, as the case may very likely be), and which no-good juvenile is dropping out of college and rafting down the Salween river or living in a commune and growing pot in Northern California.

I am an expert on Thanksgiving, as I've been able to study it without getting personally involved for three decades. In consequence of which I have no bias whatsoever, and am not swayed in any direction by other people's preferences.
Consider me absolutely neutral in every way.

Which is why I have several worthwhile recommendations regarding the key player in the holiday celebration, of which you would be wise to take serious note.
They are the result of extraordinary research.
I'm a giver.


1. Drop-kick it Lord Jesus through the goalposts of life.
2. Use it as a paperweight till "they" start gagging.
3. Re-gift it a month hence.
4. Paint it orange and wear it to Giants games.
5. Put it in the blender and treat it like a frog.
6. It's your baby! Wheel it through town.
7. Airmail it to Africa.
8. Cover it with oil and play 'pervert'.
9. Keep your medications in the cavity.
10. Tinsel and lights for Christmas.


11. Leave it on the church doorstep with a letter asking for a good home.
12. Draw a frowny face on it and put it on your porch.
13. File it under T.
14. Talk to it on the bus.
15. Blame it for your divorce. Then shoot it.
16. Love it tender, love it true; never let it go.
17. Hide it in the attic with grandma.
18. Call it Barbie and give it to your niece, then scream that she doesn't love you when she weeps.
19. At meetings, it's your cell-phone and it's ringing!
20. He's the man you intend to marry and you don't care what your parents think!

If you are a Vegetarian or Vegan, please use a Tofurky instead.

Alternatively, you could just pretend you have re-discovered your proud Scottish Heritage, and loudly insist on something far more culturally appropriate (and even less edible) for the family feast.
You are defiant, you are single-minded, you WILL HAVE YOUR WAY!

With any luck, you will NOT be invited again. Ever.
Once was enough, keep that kilt-wearing maniac away from family gatherings!

Hah, I didn't like Turkey anyhow!

Note: these two lists are lifted from a post first published a few years ago on this blog. So is the Scottish afterthought.
My personal Thanksgiving this year involves excellent pipe tobacco, strong tea, toasted buns and butter, and plenty of reading. A nice quiet day, with deserted streets, and a bit of late-autumn sunshine.
Might end up a bit goofy after nightfall. That's something inherent in every Thanksgiving that I haven't really been able to avoid.
On the other hand, I might go to bed early.
Shortly after tea-time.

Actually, I think I'd look fine in a kilt.
Kinda dashing, yet classic.

Turkey haggis.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:

All correspondence will be kept in confidence.



  • At 6:28 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Turkey haggis?! One way to use the giblets.


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