I hated Thanksgiving. At least, I thought I did because everyone on the internet and their mother are always spewing negative shit about the holiday(s). People who love the holidays are feeling more and more cowed by the overbearing opinions of those who wish to take something that was once awesome - then twisted, then awesome again - and turn it into something horrid due wholly to the fact that they live pathetic lives hiding behind the blue comfort of their monitor and their bitter angst because no one will invite them to Thanksgiving. Well, guess what, motherfuckers - you suck. I now love Thanksgiving.
Because my Thanksgiving went something like this - Didn't sleep, so delirium was the first course of the day, alongside a steaming pot of hot, black coffee. Fuck the mug. I then proceeded to clean house like a speed freak, complete with thong, Daft Punk, and a toothbrush. Made my way to the kitchen, and whipped up some of the best honey rolls ever. I was prepping the veg for my stuffing, heard a commotion in the yard, went to check, and ended up single-handedly battling A GINORMOUS, FEROCIOUS, SCREAMING, CHICKEN-STEALING SON OF A BITCH MOTHERFUCKING RED-TAILED HAWK! WITH IT'S TALONS OF FUCKING DEATH! AGAIN! You read that correctly. The fucker(tress?) had flown down, got one of my girls in it's TALONS OF FUCKING DEATH!, and ended up stuck in the shrubbery, flapping and screeching and shit, but refused to let go of Wheel (my kids named the chickens. Shut up. We have Zelda, Godzilla, Link[previously Godzilla as well], Quetzl, Black Debbie, and Wheel.). This is the second time this particular goddamn bird had gone after my chickens, and I wanted my wife to see it, so - in redneck fashion - I called out "C'MERE! You gotta fucking see this!" When she got out there, I was all "What should we do with it?" while I have it restrained at pitchfork length, doing all I can to avoid being gut-checked by TALONS OF FUCKING DEATH!, and she's all "It's trying to eat our chickens! I don't know - kill it?"
But I couldn't. I know the bitch was tormenting our birds, but it was only going after it's version of turkey dinner. With fixins. Because our birds are FAT. Fat fat fat fat fat. Which was why it couldn't get Wheel last time, because it couldn't lift her fat ass off the ground. Besides - the last time it tried to snag our biddies, they laid twice as many eggs the next day. So I decided to let it go. Which, as it turns out, is a fuckload easier said than done. I proceeded to gently extricate it from the bush with a pitch fork, while it's slashing and screeching and resetting it's beak and TALONS OF FUCKING DEATH! from "chicken" "to disembowel the fat guy coming at me with a giant fork", all the while keeping it pinned with the flat of the tines so the TALONS OF FUCKING DEATH! came nowhere near my precious genitalia, got as far back from it as I could, and released Satan's Death Raptor to do it's fiendish bidding elsewhere (AFTER having struck an accord that she no longer torment our birds but once or twice a month, and then, only to scare us up some more eggs). She flew off a bit drunkenly, and I went back inside and made the awesomest fucking dressing ever. Then we had a delightful family meal with the grandparents and auntie. And pie. True story.The end.