The Griswald’s have nothing on my crazy-ass family. I can’t go in to detail tonight because the nutty fuckers wore me out today and I have to start back to work on the ski mountain tomorrow. But picture this: I awaken to the sounds of my mother informing my brother that he is an asshole and the day goes downhill from there. The restaurant where we were to eat Thanksgiving dinner was out of food by the time we got there and so we ended up at the only open place in town, a Mexican restaurant. Needless to say, the Thanksgiving platter, or Pavo Especial, was nothing short of groovy. Turkey with gravy and sprinkled with spicy ground beef with a side of sweet Asian veggies, and let’s not forget the tortillas. I couldn’t bring myself to sop up the gravy with a tortilla. I had a huge ass margarita, nothing short of that would have carried me through.
Old Stuff
Blogroll
Sounds like you and I had some similiar Thanksgiving experiences–heh. We had ham at my house; just my mother, myself, and my husband. The assholes who made the turkey went in a different direction. I was glad for it though…and, they are not my real relatives anyway…longer story. But then it always is, huh?