How to deal with A-Holes and have a Happy Thanksgiving

Whether your own family likes to give you hell or you’re bravely facing the in-laws, YOU are what really matters on this special day of stuffing face. And in a perfect world, we ALL have an absolutely wonderful holiday with everyone we love and nothing goes wrong and we all shit rainbows. Well, get over it! Last time I checked, my shit wasn’t multi-colored (it’s been a while). So if your heart fills with dread this time of year and you’re forced to deal with assholes, you have options. Depending on your personality there are a few ways you can go about this without technically killing anyone.

Option 1: Be the happy-go-lucky one.



This means you put your happy face on, no matter what kind of mine field you’re walking into. Use humor, silliness or stupidity to your advantage. No matter how awful your jokes are, as long as you’re smiling at least one person is guaranteed to not want to kill you. Befriend them! Unless they’re super self-absorbed or a total basket case they’ll defend you when the piranhas attack, even if your partner pretends you don’t exist. And you will be completely invisible to your partner at a family gathering at least once during your relationship, so it’s important to have some comrades around. You know, for when you offend those people without a sense of humor, or those who think they’re better than everyone else… Or the elderly. And you won’t walk out of there without offending someone, you goofy clown.

Option 2: Play deaf and dumb.



Maybe you can’t smile because the sun didn’t come out, someone is dragging you out by your heels, or you like to torture happy people. If you’re not feeling good vibes that’s perfectly OK. When the assholes come ‘round, play dumb. Block out anything that doesn’t bring you comfort or joy. And most importantly, keep your mouth shut! If you can’t resist interaction, do like the chimps do and make obvious gestures. When you are asked a question, shrug. When you’ve had enough and are on the verge of walking out, throw your hand up as if to say, Step off, bitch! There’s also a finger that works for that. On second thought, just stick to the deaf and dumb routine. And it works in any situation where you don’t want confrontation, you spineless mute.

Option 3: Be the biggest asshole.



Why take shit from any turkey? You’ve been a pushover far too long now. You’re sick of the headaches brought on every year by certain ass hats you wish you didn’t have to see, hear, touch or smell. And worst of all, you’ve been holding back. Well it’s time, my friend. It is finally your time. Use this gathering as an opportunity to tell everyone exactly how you feel about them. Hold back no more! Summon your inner-beast. Give them what they’re asking for. But take heed - to be successful you must be strong and loving toward yourself. In a pinch, a strong and loving companion will do. When the dust settles, you’ll be feared. You’ll be hated. Someone will want to kill you. But you are made of steel. Now, proudly and boldly go where the few who aren’t premenstrual dare. You can do this, you coldhearted asshole.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot… Happy Thanksgiving!

Minnesota on my mind

Recently I’ve been facing a tough decision that has been eating away at my innards like a mini Hannibal Lecter. Hmm, that would make for a good movie. Let’s see what Meet Dave does at the box office.

Seriously though, for the last six years I’ve been enduring a horrible series of attacks from loved ones. Family can torture you like no one else on the planet. I have been pushed, pulled and prodded more than any one I know. I have endured much guilt. I mean, how selfish of me to raise my kids in an environment free of gangs, prostitution, hard core drugs, Norm Coleman…

They all want me to move back to the Twin Cities so I can become enveloped with family drama and feel my love slowly turn to hate, see the sun a few days every month, enjoy a -75 wind chill for three months every year, work 40 hour weeks and eat Ramen noodles every night, experiment daily with road rage, explain to my kids the guy smoking marijuana in public is the normal one and we are the freaks, participate in weekly gas drive-offs and blame it on the teenagers, see my teens on weekends (visitation hours only), watch in horror as my youngest child is carried away by mosquitoes, and basically turn from a mildly sarcastic individual into a raving lunatic.

Sounds good to me.

This will eventually end up with me living in a cardboard box somewhere near the Mississippi River. Unless, of course, I’m found in the river and then placed into a box. Either way, I just can‘t wait.

So until then, I’ll enjoy life in Montana more than usual. Maybe I’ll get a pet bear while I’m at it…


On second thought, way too much poop to clean up.