This is the first year that I have spent Thanksgiving away from my family in Houston. While I’m thankful for this experience and will always love New York, my hosts, and my newest inspiration and Southern icon, William; I am currently wondering what the eff I was thinking, and have never missed my family more.
Background: I decided to come to New York because I was invited and my TripAlert notified me that tickets were under $250–which honestly would have been reason enough under non-holiday circumstances—BUT, there was also a threat that my Turkey-Master rights and title, which I had to fight tooth and nail for last year, were going to be challenged and possibly usurped, so I bolted.
Problem=Solved, right?
False. This, like all of my great escape plans, has not played out so well—as seen by drunken video footage below:
I apologize for the language, length and lack of editing; I have many areas of opportunity…but unfortunately, all of these things require a certain type of patience that I do not possess currently…despite it being in my best interests.
Post-Screening Notes:
1. No Jews were harmed during the filming of this production.
2. We are highly intoxicated. The delayed reactions are a product of this; our inner-sober, aware-we’re-being-filmed-selves are desperately trying (in vain) to prevent our drunk-selves from sounding like jerks. I can’t help but take pride in this, given the amount of alcohol consumed.
3. Curtis gesticulates wildly, if not nonsensically when he is wrong.
4. There is more than one way to stuff a turkey. None of them involve bread poached in water.
Fuck you, Curtis.
xoxo-
kris
Next up: The Emergency Room. Happy Thanksgiving!
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