Thanksgiving is around the corner: the one time of year when you are expected to show up and share a meal with people in your extended family you can’t stand. The uncle who hasn’t taken off his MAGA hat since August 2016. The judgmental religious cousin who questions your life choices both explicitly and implicitly with virtually every word and gesture. Hell, even your mom wants you to explain the tax bill in ‘simple terms she can understand.’ So what’s a hungry millennial to do?
We’ve got you covered. Exhaustive research by the professionals at the Canard Press newsroom has come up with the following seven no-fail tips to help you get through the day.
- Beer, if you start drinking on Monday.
- Wine, but only in very large quantities.
- Don’t go. Seriously. You can’t cook your own damn turkey and stuffing? They sell turkey, like, 12 months a year. It’s not like it’s some rare product only available in November. And who even likes turkey? It’s basically a big fucking chicken. Close your eyes, taste them both, and tell me if you can tell the difference.
As for Black Friday, you’re on your own. Sorry.
A booze-soaked log of gelatinous candied “fruits” embedded in chewy high-fiber has been unanimously voted the best thing to come out of 2016.
“This was a bit of a shock, since the fruitcake has lost out in the ‘best of’ voting for the past seventy five years,” said Austin Lamm, who manages the secretive voting process from his kitchen in Boise, Idaho. “In fact we mostly include the fruitcake on the ballot so people have something to rank lower than the norovirus they caught on that cruise. But this year surprised us all.”
Some cited the frantically cheerful colors of the candied fruits trapped within the unforgiving matrix of the stiff loaf like flies in amber as a sign of determined cheer in the face of impossibly dreary odds. Many cited the alcoholic content of the thing, which is sufficiently combustible to power a Ford Fusion for fifteen to twenty miles in case of emergency.
But most cited the grim durability of the fruitcake as its most inspirational quality.
“If this thing can survive nineteen years in my Aunt Gladys’ cupboard, maybe I can survive four years of a Trump presidency.” said Lamm. “Or at least maybe the fruitcake will. Regardless, there will be something left of our civilization to carry on.”