Happy Thanksgiving! (from the idiot who thought it was a good idea to make stuffing from scratch)

This year, I’m thankful for nuggets… of all species.

Sorry I’ve been MIA for the past two days, but this is my first year hosting Thanksgiving dinner. I finally understand why we only eat stuffing once a year. It takes like 3 freaking hours to make! Why didn’t anyone warn me? To be fair, the first 45 minutes to an hour was spent cleaning my kitchen so I even had room to start making stuffing. And that’s right, bitches. I made the stuffing. From scratch. Cut up a huge loaf of bread days ago and let the thing dry out in my oven all week. I’d like to say that this batch of stuffing was made with a little TLC, but in reality, if any of the things I ended up yelling in the process of preparing it affect the taste, this is going to be one hostile side dish. You try grating four carrots and parsnips and get back to me before you think I’m crazy. Oh, yeah, and don’t forget the damned chestnuts. I’m such a moron for thinking that was a good idea… I still have chestnut shell under my nails.

This morning I’m finishing cleaning up my apartment before my Aunt and my friend Amanda get here. I have The Great Muppet Caper on in the background, and I’m almost in a cheery holiday mood. That’s right, almost. If I were actually in a cheery mood, we’d all know that it’s not really the holidays. I’ve opted to listen to the new Rihanna CD (my full thoughts on that sometime later this week), in lieu of Christmas Music, which will only make me sappy and miss home. I learned that lesson the hard way last night while “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”, up to my elbows in stuffing, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. At this rate my Thanksgiving meal is going to cause violent mood swings, like in that book, Like Water for Chocolate. This meal will have all the fixing of the above video from Chelsea Lately: violent pigs, sad white men, and awkward little person. I’m pretty sure this is what the Pilgrims and Indians had in mind when they first gave each other small pox, or scapled each other, or whatever they did that day. It just goes to show you that non-traditional meal plans are what the day is all about. Also, if I make it through unscalped and un-communicable diseased, I’ll be thankful for that as well.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo Yazge

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