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Well, it was The Thanksgiving That Almost Wasn’t! around here, since the oven died about three weeks ago, after a long and greasy life.  It was so old, in fact, that the company which manufactured it was no longer in business, and any replacement parts would have had to be hand-forged by Hephaestus in the boiling caldera of Mount Etna, and even then there’s a 12 to 15 day delivery, which sounds fine, but that’s business days.

Amazingly, though, they replaced it with a brand new stove-and-oven (stoven?) combo, so the Jenni-O turkey breast in the freezer will not have been severed from a dead bird countless weeks ago in vain.  It’s a Thanksgiving Miracle!

And here to deliver the invocation is Riley:

Felicitations on your Feast of Gratitude, Bipeds.  You may begin by getting down on your ungainly mid-leg joints and kissing my white socks that I haven’t killed you yet.  However, later today, after your gluttony has left you weak, bloated, and tempting, I issue no guarantees.

Okay.  Let’s move on to Moondoggie for the Benediction:


As long time readers know, Mystery Science Theater 3000 has a special place in my heart (specifically, the place — down and to the right — where most of America has Bristol Palin clog-dancing in their vena cava), since s.z., Mary and I all initially bonded over our shared love of the show.  For which I’m thankful; because if we’d been brought together through a common interest in Hayek or Ayn Rand, then we all would have just wound up as assholes.  The hundreds of cats and dogs that s.z. has saved would instead have been turned out into the snow to make their own Galtian way — perhaps by founding a freelance snow-shoveling business (and don’t give me that crap about domestic quadrupeds lacking thumbs!  I’ve seen footage of Goofy mowing his own lawn); and Mary and I would be divorced by now, and giving you unsolicited advice on the sanctity of marriage.

Anyway, I never much cared for Thanksgiving a child, because it meant a series of dull undercard bouts amongst relatives who didn’t much interest me when they weren’t fighting, culminating with the main event when my parents would inevitably square off after the gallon jug of Italian-Swiss Colony Rosé was empty.  Worse, it meant my grandmother’s cottage cheese and lime Jell-O salad.

Any pleasant memories I have of the holiday date to the early-mid-90s, and are due entirely to the MST3K Turkey Day Marathons, which Mary and I recreate every year with a few carefully curated DVDs.  So here’s a little something to get you in the mood…

And in case I don’t say it often enough — and I don’t — I’m thankful for the many smart, funny, unbelievably kind and generous people who continue to cling to this disreputable corner of blogtopia.  On behalf on Sheri, Mary, and the cats, Happy Turkey Day everyone.

24 Responses to “Happy Turkey Day!”

and a happy to(fu)rkey day to the wonderful Wo’C extended family who I wish I were spending the day with

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.

Thanks for the laughs, for this little corner of the web which is my home, and for letting me hang around, which makes it my real home.

I hope you’re all doing what you like to do most, with the people who make up your family, however you, not the busybodies who don’t believe in having fun anyway, define it.

Quiet here today, just me putting on the base coat to my soon to be painfully awesome and beautiful entryway, listening to Cafe Accordion Orchestra and Steely Dan and such.

And now it’s time to shower and roast my brined turkey breast, sweet potato casserole and Brussels sprouts; yum for me!

I will raise my glass to friends, absent, perhaps unmet, and wish you all well!

No oven?! The horror! I’m glad your decrepit appliance was replaced in time for the holiday. Me, I’m on call and about to head over to a fellow MD’s house for dinner. But it’s been nice and quiet and my dinner contributions are all ready to go. Happy Thanksgiving!

“…when my parents would inevitably square off after the gallon jug of Italian-Swiss Colony Rosé was empty.”

Hey! Mine too. Only it was martinis. And then I’d get to do the dishes. Happy Thanksgiving.

Turkey is eat? Turkey is country?

Heidi and I have MST3K Turkey day marathons in common too. On the way home form having the dinner at her sister and Brother-in-law’s house today, Heidi mentioned Frank making plates for Gerry and Sylvia the Mole People.

“…when my parents would inevitably square off after the gallon jug of Italian-Swiss Colony Rosé was empty.”

Ah yes… I relate, having been half-raised by “Uncle Carlo”.

Even more so I relate to the cat-lurve and the MST3K bonding. I still remember my treasured wobbly VHS tapes with Adam West and Mamie Van Doren segments. Such good times.

Scott, about your neighbor Goofy– look, I don’t wanna tell tales out of school or anything, but Jeez, look at the guy– just keep your kids away from him, okay?

There are times I think the Disney Studio recruited from kink, and between the dwarves and the duck’s bastard nephews, well, I wonder.

A very Happy and Bounteous Harvest to you all.

Tempus effin’ fugit, man. I think I’ve got every hour of those Thanksgiving marathons on videotape. We used to beg off listening to Uncle Floyd explaining what was wrong with teevee these days around hour six so I could get home in time to switch tapes.

Hope everyone had a Happy. Brining rocks.

I was on the road most of yesterday, but perhaps today is scheduled to be a Post-Turkey day marathon.

Yes, that seems likely. How much rum do we have?

Happy holiday weekend to all you breathers.

[...] instance, Scott Clevenger (or @ScottClevenger) posted this on World-O-Crap, which is an awesome blog. But now it’s even more awesome because its [...]

Back atcha, though I’d have to say, amongst the MST3K segments arrayed through your link, the Evil Dead 2 one was my favorite. Never understood the same guys remaking their own movie, but fuck, with the money that Sam Raimi’s pulling down now, I guess that he’s allowed his “youthful impetuousness…”, or, y’know, just being a money-grubbing dillweed.

That face on Riley, not unlike her previously homicidal-themed poses, would qualify her for her own E.D. sequel, if not a spin-off from Xena… Female cats are the only critters on earth who make Xena look like a dainty little femme.

“…when my parents would inevitably square off after the gallon jug of Italian-Swiss Colony Rosé was empty.” – Scott

‘Hey! Mine too. Only it was martinis. And then I’d get to do the dishes. Happy Thanksgiving.’ — scripto

I see your Italian-Swiss Colony Rose’, your Martinis, AND your Carlo Rossi, and raise you by two cases of Schlitz Light and two cartons of Winston cigarettes.

(Back in the ’70s, they’d send me in to the corner store to pick up all four, being around the age of 8 or 9, and nope, they never asked for ID… I’m pretty sure that the only reason that I was a live birth was so that they’d always have somebody to go get their smokes, from the store or the kitchen, AND so that the Fallen Uterus wouldn’t have to climb those bookcases to dust!)

I’ve said it before and will box the ears of anyone who ever doubts it — the bestest families of all are those that you find & build for yerself, and this is my very-favorite-est online home, aside from my own personal lair, y’know.

*burp* back atcha, Scott.

We had a Jenn-O turkey breast, too. There were only 2 left in the turkey bin on Wed. night, so I guess we lucked out. Family doesn’t like T-Day food: stuffing? UG! Cranberry sauce: Bitter! Yams? Shudder all over the body… taters & gravy and white meat are OK though.

Peanut the cat got her share of turkey, she’ll eat anything. Chester the cat sniffs at his juicey tidbits and walks away. So Peanut gets a double portion.

I’ve said it before and will box the ears of anyone who ever doubts it — the bestest families of all are those that you find & build for yerself, and this is my very-favorite-est online home, aside from my own personal lair, y’know.

we return the sentiment, Annti, tenfold.

*yawns, stretches, and emerges from her post-antipsychotic coma, at least briefly*

You will recall that last year our oven was broken, and after going through similar hardware wormholes to repair our kitchen faucet (Installed By Four Dimensional Alien Monkeys, Badly Trained), we gave up and just bought a new one eventually. So last year’s Thanksgiving feast was Chicken McNuggets and all the trimmings, fries and cranberry sauce for dipping, fried apple pie for dessert. Because that’s how we roll.

This year, with our new oven, we… went to Denny’s. Because, actually, that’s kinda how we roll too. I will say I was probably not the only person in there who was improperly medicated, nor was I the only person there hallucinating, which gave me something to be thankful for, I fit right in.

I am not, for the record, improperly medicated because I am uninsured, though I am until my partner’s new job sorts out whether they want to extend coverage to me, (pretty sure they will, it’s just that no one’s ever asked and they have to now come up with an actual policy on it, for which I am actually thankful), but because I woke up on Veterans’ Day to discover rightbloggers skreeing over the google logo, and basically decided that apparently, crazy is the new normal, so me too!

Annti, a-fucking-men. Family is what you make it!

Happy Belated Thanksgiving to all!

Scott, did you settle the pressing Turkey Day question of Stuffing: Balm in Gilead or Potatoes: Eight-eyed hydra, destroyer of worlds?

Man, I miss the Turkey Day marathon. A friend and I used to hold Pig Day on that day each year, which basically involved a lot of spray can cheese (much of it on fudge covered Oreos–don’t knock it, it’s pretty good), knockwurst, twenty pounds or so of candy, donuts and diet soda.
Great fun.
This year I made cheesesteaks and went to the movies. Not as great, but overall not too shabby.

Stuffing instead of potatoes? Honey, I love you!

Stuffing instead of potatoes? Honey, I love you!

Well, I found a recipe that turns a potato into a PoGREATO! This was the best Thanksgiving, ever!

Is 3 days late just too post-Turkey? Well, too bad — holiday goodness to you all, goodness of the same cuddly temperature as a kitteh’s tummeh after getting outside of some Meleagris gallopavo and curling up for a half hour or so.

Just wanted to mention that my husband and I first bonded over a mutual love of MST3k way back in high school (still together 8 years later!). My family didn’t have Comedy Central back in the Turkey Day days so I was/am more of a Sci-Fi era MSTie. My husband used to watch it every Thanksgiving with his dad, though, and quickly educated me.

That all said, Happy Thanksgiving, and thanks for all the laughs :-)

Is 3 days late just too post-Turkey?

It ain’t too late ’til you run out of leftovers.

Me, I got turkey tetrazzini on the menu tonight…

Something to say?