Happy Thanksgiving and thanks for publishing my column.
Im a big fan of this holiday because few things are more American than boozing up and chowing down til your ankles swell and your corduroys pop. In between, you get to watch some football and share your thoughts on the trainwreck presidency of Barack Hussein Obama (hint hint).
I consider myself a knowledgable debater because I read up on the blogs and Im typically one of the most liked commenters on the articles.
The reason Im writing this is because my brothers dumb kid likes to get chatty with me. Ive never seen anyone bring so many printouts to the dinner table. His talking points, he says. Reminds me of my last divorce, all those friggin printouts. This kid, my nephew, will never admit to being a communist, its always this moderate independent crap. But his Facebook feed is full of Bernie Sandinista, if you know what I mean, and he recently tweeted some gibberish about riding the bus in Czechoslovakia and identifying as a human being instead of what he is, an American. Hes been a student at some Ivy League circlejerk for the better part of a decade. I think hes 29, who the hell even cares? If hes the future, this countrys digging its own grave and Im glad I wont be there when it finally kicks the bucket.
When I was his age, I was flying Ranger battalions into Grenada in 83. I spent Thanksgiving there, and believe me, we didnt have any damn printouts. We had a war, son. A lot of my buddies have similar situations in their families, and theyre always asking me for advice on how to put up with this left-wing propaganda. Well, Ill give you a taste. Hes gonna be all like youre just giving ISIS what they want. Ill come back at him with something like: You know, you raise an interesting point there, Brayden. Ill tell you what, why dont you invite one of your ISIS pals around the house and well see how much he likes it when I slash his guts out with the turkey knife. You think thats what he wants? They want us to crush them? Tell me something, how did you feel when your Little League team got mercy-ruled by those country boys in the district finals? Is that what you wanted? Were you just phoning it in for the participant trophy? Is that why youre too afraid to shave that pathetic beard? Because thats what ISIS wants? Am I othering you right now? Did I carpet bomb your safe space?
Maybe, just maybe, what ISIS really wants is a world with fewer people like me, whove looked evil in the eye and given a few titty-twisters in our day, and more people like the skinny jean cycle jockeys you pal around with at Yale, with your ska music and your websites and fantasy sports. Maybe what ISIS wants is your dental floss forearms that can barely hold a selfie stick, much less a BAR. Do those Vox cards have a talking point for that? Oh, really? Because I was under the impression that in A-m-e-r-i-c-a, the proper way to usher in the holiday season is with a stiff Rusty Nail, not a dialogue about small pox and genocide, unless you want to share your feelings about the mass murder ISIS wants to bring down on your ass? Is that a topic we can let marinate?
I bet you had to print out the lyrics to our national anthem when you went to sing it in the quad the night we elected President Hopey Change. No, you listen. You listen, Brayden. Whens the last time you got a blister on those hands? Dont mention the time you tried eating the vegan hotdog at the WNBA game you made me take you to out of fairness. You didnt even watch the game. You just tweeted about sexism on your iPad. You know, that little computer screen made by Apple, which last I checked was a corporation, Mr. Occupy. Dont deny it, I was watching you. You only looked up when Taylor Swift came over the PA system. How do you think that made Brittney Griner feel? Remind me: Whats the name of the union for people who Twitter all day from an air conditioned office? Because I dont think amateur food photographer counts as a real job.
I plan to say this to the little pansy in a firm but slightly mocking tone as I pour another bourbon while eating processed turkey and holding a lit cigarette. Email me at
rawdawg61@yahoo.com with any questions. Carpe cibum!