When turkeys fight back

Among the scariest animals I encounter when zipping around on my motorcycle, both in the woods and on the road, are turkeys. These weird birds are so erratic and unpredictable in the wild, they make squirrels seem sober by comparison.

A turkey will stand at the side of the road just gawking at you with those creepy pin prick eyes. He sees you coming, no doubt. But then, at the very last second available for you to take corrective actions, the portly foul will just shuffle right in front of you, trying his best to cause mayhem by ramming his ungainly head right into your spokes. It’s like they want to die in the messiest, most calamitous way possible rather than risk ending up in one of those warming ovens at the Market Basket.

If I were to hit a turkey while riding my dual sport, the resulting mess would be so complicated, investigators wouldn’t know which parts were mine and which were the bird’s. Anyway, I bring this up just to wish you and yours a very Happy Thanksgiving. If you find tread marks in your turkey meat, they ain’t mine.

What the ^*&#@! is a yam?

While I haven’t officially received an invite from you for Thanksgiving dinner, I’m just going to assume you meant to send one out. I’ll be there with bells on.

And just to save us both embarrassment, here’s a list of things I won’t eat. Anything with the word “curd” in it. Anything with the word “candied” in it.

Sweet potatoes, because anything that color couldn’t possibly have come from nature. Sweet potatoes, to me, look like the results of a nuclear accident. Same with yams, whatever those are. No onions for me, either. Or peas. Or carrots. In fact, do you have any cereal I could have, instead?

Who plans this stuff?

Seriously, is Thursday good for you? It seems like we’d all be better off if Thanksgiving was on a Friday because then we could have a full weekend to throw up.

Whomever it was who decreed that this holiday take place on a Thursday is probably the same weirdo who instituted daylight savings time so we could enjoy full dark at 4 p.m. That dude clearly got a hold of some bad yams.

Cranberry sauce

I grew so fond of the canned version of this stuff over the years that I cannot tolerate homemade incarnations of it. In the homemade stuff, you can actually SEE the berries, and that’s just disgusting! Plus, the canned stuff will wiggle for hours if you poke it with your fork and that’s some great fun at the dinner table.

And I mean this from the heart

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. Try not to drink so much that you end up on the news this year.