The best alternative to turkey.

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Photo by Wayne de Klerk

2020 has been one for the books, and I don’t mean the history books. I mean the recipe books. That’s right. Forget everything else, because this Thanksgiving, we’re not eating turkey. This Thanksgiving, we’re eating glorious pelican fresh out of the sky.

I know what you’re thinking: What the fuck are you talking about? But before you cram your AirPods back in and keep doomscrolling into the future, hoping that whatever vaccine comes out will also make you more attractive, let me let you in on a little secret: Turkeys are fucking lame. They’ve got a dick for a neck, an umbrella for an ass, and a bad attitude. They’re doused with Tryptophan that will make you fall asleep faster than you can say “Make America Suck Again” and have assholes full of gizzard farts. Some say the Tryptophan bit is a myth, but do you know what’s really a myth? Plymouth Fucking Rock. …


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Photo by Laura Shepard, Barclays Center, Brooklyn, June 2020

Psst. Hey you. Can you help me? Some unwashed twenty-something put me upside down. Can you please turn me upright? I look stupid. All the other flags are laughing at me. I’m like the Rudolph of flags. I’ve been like this for over a month now and it’s not getting any better.

Don’t you see how my stars look slanted? One of the other flags — Finland — was like, “Why does it even matter if your stars appear slanted since actual stars are big explosive balls of hydrogen and yours are just some juvenile geometric shape?” Can you believe that prick? And then Malta was all “I heard the points of your five-pointed stars represent the five wounds of Jesus, and it doesn’t matter which way Jesus bled.” Like OK Malta. Thanks for that feedback. Maybe you should try consuming more oil. THEN Puerto Rico was like, “You’re missing a star anyway.” …


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Wow, what a crazy time to be alive, you’re thinking. The 2020 Presidential Election is a disaster, dolphins are choking on plastic, and teenagers are telling you to get your shit together. Right now kind of sucks, you think. But let me tell you something. It’s a good time to be a virus. Take it from me, the Coronavirus.

Look, what none of you seem to understand is that I have needs too. Have any of you sat back and thought what does it want? No, you haven’t, so let me tell you. …

About

Laura Shepard

I am a writer based in Atlanta, Georgia, mostly writing humor and memoir. I have been described as having “a heart of gold with a big dark spot on it.”

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