Thanksgiving, what a time. Endless turkey, excessive drinking, football and a day off of the hell we all know as work. What more could you ask for? Every year, I roll out of bed as hung-over as a giggly eyed 21-year-old girl who just swallowed 35 blowjob shots. Except, I participate in the turkey trot every year, which for those of you who don’t know, it’s the largest drinking holiday of the year. That’s, f****ng science, so drink up Jockeys. Anyways, here’s the breakdown of how My Thanksgiving typically unfolds.

Stage 1: The Hangover: As I covered earlier, every turkey day begins the same for me, paying for the sins of my prior night. It typically starts with a projectile vomit that is similar to that of the exorcism. As I cast out my demons over the toilet bowl, panic time begins. Thanksgiving at my family typically starts around 1. It’s 11:50 and I’m currently hurling my organs out, can’t locate my phone, still have to poop, need coffee, need to shower and need to articulate an excuse on why I will be tardy at the family feast. Oh, also, my family lives an hour away. Lots of holes in this sinking ship of mine. If you think this is the worst stage, you are sadly mistaken.

Stage 2: The interrogation

As I roll into the house that built me half an hour late, hugs followed by some judgmental sniffs, remarks and looks always follow.

 “Son, you smell like a brewery.”

Then comes the seal team six interrogation

“Oh Good, you brought your roommate (Belly Boo) again. That’s really wonderful.”

“Have you looked into buying any property??”

“Son, I don’t mean to be blunt, but were you planning on growing up any time soon?”

“Don’t apologize about being late son, I’m sure you were at Sunday Mass.”

Stage 3: Alcohol

Now that the colonoscopy of questions is over,  the third stage of the day begins. Alcohol.  The pregame if you will. Many people drink to get drunk. Some people drink because they have too. some do it for social gatherings. On Thanksgiving I drink for two reasons. The first being, I have to as my hangover is so monstrous, no amount of Advil will defeat it. The one thing that got me in this situation is unfortunately, the only fix. The second being, I drink simply to consume more food. That may sound odd to you, but listen, I like to eat. Scratch that. I LIVE TO EAT. I don’t drink on turkey day because I want, I drink because I must. If you thought that Diet Started on Thanksgiving, sorry to inform you, the Diet Starts Tomorrow.

Stage 4: The Feast

Alas, the glorious time has come. Sure family time, giving thanks and indulging in alcohol is truly blissful. However, they are second to the feast that sits in front of you. Some of the unhealthiest food awaits your belly and before I get any further into this, if you are one of those families that wake up at 7:15 a.m. run a f****ng  5k and eat cauliflower mashed potatoes, I have news for you. You’re a communist and deserve a lifetime of sickness. Sorry, my blood sugar is low and am irritable right now.

I don’t eat to get full on thanksgiving. I eat until all the food is gone. The meal isn’t done until I hate myself. Here is a drinking tip as well: when eating, drink red wine: it won’t fill your stomach up as much as beer. Quick life hacks to keep your steady blackout.

Stage 5: Football and seconds

What’s better than cracking open a cold one while it sits on your robust turkey stuff belly watching football? Nothing. Nothing says thanksgiving like getting aggressively drunk, full and watch the Dallas cowboys play football for the 146th year in a row, “America’s team” my ass. I’d rather watch the 1994 Jamaican bob sled team than the palpatine that is Jerry Jones.

Thanksgiving is great, enjoy time with your family, be thankful for what you have and remember, the best part of thanksgiving is being off of work. Drink up Jockeys.