Do you know what I’ve discovered? When I don’t get enough REM sleep, I tend to have crazy dreams. I’ve been working night and day to get my book, Monsters’ Throwdown, ready to launch during the second week of December (the cover is finished and it is soooooo fantastic), but when I finally got some shut-eye, I had dreams about a turkey. Not just any turkey, but the one that is being pardoned by the President next week. He kept screaming: “I DON’T WANT TO BE PARDONED. I WANT TO DIE! I HATE THIS PLACE—HUMANS ARE A DISGRACE.”
He was in a psychiatrist’s office—lying on a couch and chatting with my alter-ego who was his therapist. Even though what the turkey said sounded like gobbledygook to me, Dalai Mama understood him perfectly because he’s a “jive turkey” and she has spoken “jive” for years. (For the uninitiated, a Jive Turkey is, “One who speaks as though they know what they’re talking about…though they do not—a bullshitter,” Urban Dictionary, and Jive is, “a form of slang associated with black American jazz musicians.”)
Used by Permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle||Cagle Cartoons
In my dream, Mr. Turkey was dressed in the disguise of an owl and was thrashing back and forth in an agonized state. The Dalai Mama was trying to calm Jive Turkey down and get him to tell her what was so agitating.
DALAI MAMA: Yo’ Jive Time Turkey, how’s it hanging—what’s the word from the herd (the other turkeys)?
JIVE TURKEY: I’ve escaped, dag gobble—that’s the word! I’m on the lam from Farmer John’s place in Badger, Minnesota. I just found out that all the extra food and fluffing of the tail that I’ve been getting was so that he could bring me to Washington, DC next week to be pardoned by the President. Then I’m to be sent to Mt. Vernon to live out the rest of my days. But I don’t want to live, I tell you! I hate people—they are the scourge of the Earth. God should start all over again with a new batch.
DALAI MAMA: Seriously, Jive Turkey, it’s not that bad—we’re not that bad. Are you in the know about this pardon or are you a solid bringer-downer (a person who worries about nothing)? This just doesn’t jive” (doesn’t make sense). Usually they pick a turkey from much closer to home.
JIVE TURKEY: Of course it jives! I saw Farmer John flip the grip (shake hands) on the deal with some Lothario from Ontario (a fast worker or charmer) who flew out from DC a couple of weeks ago to check me out. Once I knew it was a done deal, I concocted this owl disguise and flew the coop. Pretty clever, if I do say so myself. Bet you’ve never heard of stuffed owl for Thanksgiving.
Meme from Joanhascheezburger.com
DALAI MAMA: You mean that Farmer John doesn’t know you’re gone? This isn’t hep (cool) Jive Turkey. I could get into a lot of trouble for not turnin’ you in to your farmer. Besides, Farmer John must have thought you had the chops (ability, skill set) to do this gig, or he wouldn’t have chosen you. It’s true that America has a few bad apples, but for the most part, we’re a decent people—I’m just layin’ it on you straight (telling it like it is). Have you ever been to a Thanksgiving dinner at the home of an American family?
JIVE TURKEY: Yes, I have, as a matter of fact. I got a sneak preview of an upcoming family Thanksgiving dinner from looking into a crystal ball. I was a voyeur to what I thought was going to be a swellelegant (wonderful, marvelous) event, but it turned out to be a blood bath. They were all buckets from Nantucket (heavy drinkers), and it didn’t take long for the family of ten to descend into chaos. All I could think was: is this the reason 46 million of my peeps gave up their lives—so that people could treat each other like Turkey ca-ca?
DALAI MAMA: What?? What happened?
JIVE TURKEY: My friend Bernice was the sacrificial poultry for the family I observed. The sister-in-law insisted on cooking the dinner—it being her first. I suspect she was awfully jealous of her husband’s wife’s monopoly of the holiday. She didn’t thaw Bernice in time, forgot to take out her guts, and overcompensated by turning the oven up to 500 degrees—charcoaling Bernie’s hide while undercooking her insides. Everyone got food poisoning, but before they all ended up in the hospital, I almost solid blew my top (went crazy) at their family ideology and communication skills.
The mother kept picking on her adult daughter about her weight and alluding that maybe the size of her tits and ass was the reason she didn’t have a husband yet. The daughter burst into tears and locked herself in the bathroom for the rest of the dinner. The brother’s new girlfriend was a good for nothin’ clueless mop (no good woman) who asked: “What do Jewish people eat on Thanksgiving?” The brother’s lesbian sister almost hit the girlfriend up side her stupid head with a gourd, but she got distracted when the grandmother’s teeth fell into the mashed potatoes. The mother’s sister announced that she only likes Thanksgiving for the Black Friday sales, and since stores like Target, Wal-Mart, and the like had opened early that morning and nothing seemed to be going on here, she was going to go shopping. “Nice visiting with you all—let’s do it again next year!”
Used by permission: David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star
The nasty-ass uncle that everyone knows is a pervert (doesn’t every family have one?) started antagonizing his niece and her wife about the Kenyan in the White House and the Obamacare website disaster, because if we had simply asked him (in all his wisdom, having completed one year of a two-year community college), he would have told you that the Kenyan doesn’t know a goddamn thing about what he’s doing and should go back to Africa where he belongs and leave the running of the country to white people. He made sure we all knew that he respects the office of the president—just not this president. The aunt (the uncle’s wife) agreed and boasted about their new Facebook “like”: “Never Apologize for Being White” because agreeing with the contemptible ideology of this group didn’t make her a racist. The aunt went on to brag about how they were helping people like Ted Cruz and Sarah Palin take back their country for the real Americans. Which is why, when they took the family out to dinner after church last week and racked up a bill for $95.46 for nine people, they did not tip their lesbian waitress. They did, however, leave her a note on the receipt that said they were purposely not leaving her a tip because it would be a sin to use God’s money to support her abomination of a lifestyle. At that point, the aunt’s black adopted sister (also a lesbian) pulled out a pistol from her purse (after all, this was Texas) and shot her sister between the eyes, as the word, “bitch” entangled with the smell of burnt turkey. The mother started screaming like a banshee and fainted as the dentureless grandmother gummed the words: “Dis ith dey worth Danksgivin—eva!”
On that note, I had to exodus (flee, make tracks, beat a retreat). It was then that I made up my mind that I don’t want to live on this planet with you people. If you can’t get along with your own Jive family then how in the Hell can you get along with the rest of the world. I hit the in and outer (the door) and left those drips (horrible people) in the dust. Since then I’ve been reading every news article and watching every media outlet about the situation of man on this planet, and you people don’t get any better. And now I just want to die along with my comrades and be done with you all.
(A special shout out to 25-legit-words-hepcats-jive-talk-dictionary for the Jive words and definitions.)
Cartoonist: David Horsey/http://editorialcartoonists.com
I am discovering that there are no other holidays like Thanksgiving. It is one of the few holidays where we can celebrate without regard to religion, race, or status. We just need to grab a turkey (or some tofu) along with a deep pint of gratitude, and we’re good to go. I am also discovering that there are no Norman Rockwell perfect family portraits of Thanksgiving dinner in real life, either. The problem is, we all try and recreate those fantasies during the holidays, and therein lays the heartbreak: the more we try to make our families perfect, the more they come undone.
There should be a sign over all of our door frames this Thanksgiving that says: Relax. Today is detente! None of us is perfect. I know you probably resent your mother for all sorts of things, and she thinks you can be a little shit from time to time, but let’s declare this a day of extreme gratefulness and thanksgiving for all our family members—just as they are—(unless it’s Uncle Chester, the family molester, and he shouldn’t be invited, anyway; there is a limit to our hospitality). Leave your egos at the door and your age-old animosities at home. We will not think about what we don’t have, what we haven’t been to one another, or what we won’t become in the future. We will praise God for bringing us into the world, we will thank the Lord that we have friends, siblings, children, and grandchildren—imperfect though they may be—and that we are not alone on this Earth. If we are mourning the death of loved ones, we will still grieve but give a shout out to the Almighty that we woke up alive this morning and can breathe—ready to conquer a new day and to heal a little bit more from the ravages of this world. And for God’s sake—for your sake—for your family’s sake—remember to forgive with abundance and laugh . . . a lot!
Cartoonist: Jeff Parker|| Florida Today
“It wasn’t easy telling my family that I’m gay. I made my carefully worded announcement at Thanksgiving. It was very Norman Rockwell. I said, ‘Mom, would you please pass the gravy to a homosexual?’ She passed it to my father. A terrible scene followed.” –Bob Smith
“The funny thing about Thanksgiving, or any big meal, is that you spend 12 hours shopping for it then go home and cook, chop, braise and blanch. Then it’s gone in 20 minutes and everybody lies around sort of in a sugar coma and then it takes 4 hours to clean it up.”― Ted Allen, The Food You Want to Eat: 100 Smart, Simple Recipes
“Thanksgiving, when the Indians said, ‘Well, this has been fun, but we know you have a long voyage back to England’”. –Jay Leno
May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey plump,
May your potatoes and gravy
have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious
and your pies take the prize,
and may your Thanksgiving dinner
stay off your thighs!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING, MY FELLOW AMERICANS: WE HAVE SO MUCH TO BE GRATEFUL FOR!
Used by permission: Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle
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