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American Singles Awareness Day #1: Thanksgiving


You could have gone from the day after Valentine’s to Halloween single and not been as keenly aware of it as you would be on (US) Thanksgiving. I don’t know if this rings true for Canadian Thanksgiving, so forgive my ignorance.

Today is a day of gluttony. We will eat until we cannot move, we will watch American football (or even play it if the weather is nice enough), we will have table-side chats and far too much coffee and whipped topping. It’s the real “Pie Day” (it’s a shame it’s not 3.14, though.) It’s a day where, in my former adoptive family, we’d pull names from a hat to see who is buying who something for Christmas. It wasn’t like secret Santa, though. They’d know who drew who and, once in a while, someone would declare, “I already have a gift for so-and-so, would you mind trading me?”

The kids would get gifts from everyone, but I’m jumping ahead. We haven’t spoken about our feast day yet.

If you’re not an American, have no fear, I’ll show you: it’s usually a big ass turkey, baked imperfectly and dry AF, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes and turkey gravy, dinner rolls, this stuff we insist on calling “stuffing” even though it never stuffed a bird which consists of stale bread rehydrated in seasonings with a little fat and some sort of broth — usually chicken because we don’t do turkey stock or broth for some reason in our super markets — or water if you’re too poor for broth, sweet potatoes covered in marshmallows and then baked until the marshmallows are toasted, and green bean casserole which is comprised of cream of mushroom soup with green beans topped with “French [fried] onions.” These are the iconic dishes of a New England turkey day feast.

I don’t really give a fuck about the rest of America, but I can tell you that at my ex mother-in-law’s feast there were always stuffed mushrooms, several vegetables that were raw and chopped up to go with dips of various sorts, potato chips and dip, sometimes egg nog which is usually more of a Christmas thing, and about ten more items than that because she’d entertain her very large family throughout the day.

And this is where the singles’ awareness comes in.

If you’re single, you have to watch all your family that’s married show off their spouses to you. You have to see people partake in happy memory-making without your own +1. You have to put up with being harassed by mom about how you’re single. Sometimes, if you’re really unlucky, dad harasses you, too. And if you’re truly cursed, someone is trying to set you up with a friend of a friend because the worst thing in the world is “loneliness.”

Maybe this is common in a lot more cultures than America. In fact, I bet it’s absolutely part of Indian culture because I’ve seen some movies on Netflix to that end. They want you to find the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with quickly because a well-matched couple will be so happy for decades.

I wish I was Indian, honestly. I’d have been married to a nice young man by now for at least twenty years.

That’s twenty years I wasted on other people. Twenty years I’ll never get back. What do I have to show for it? A lot of P.T.S.D., that’s what. A lot of pain to process and try to throw away so I can move on to the next chapter in life. A chapter I hope will be the last when it comes to boys because I’ll finally have found a man who wants to settle the fuck down and build a life together.

I never wanted children, so I feel zero loss there, and maybe it’s why tons of people have children when they’re clearly not ready. You can make progress raising your progeny even while you whore yourself around to this guy and that guy and that guy, too, because they said one thing and did another thing and you were already spreading your legs for them and now it’s ending horribly and there’s screaming and dishes being thrown at his head. (I don’t throw dishes, but I totally empathize, ladies.)

You were all in at some point, weren’t you, my dear? Oh, you weren’t all in? Why the fuck did you sleep with him then? What’s wrong with you? You’re more special all by yourself. Men only tell you how to hate yourself. They never love you for who you are. Excuse me — boys, not men. Boys know all about hatred, thanks to mommy only loving them on their best behavior. Thanks to daddy only accepting them when daddy’s proud. Thanks to grandparents who won’t look their way unless they’re shining brightly. (Or is this just my ex-husband who believes this when clearly he was heaped up with mostly unconditional love?)

Inversely, why do women heap hatred onto men? Instead of just stating, “I need a hug,” they’ll fight for an hour. Instead of telling their hubs to give them a kiss, they’ll bite his head off. Why does it have to go down the road of intense criticism before women realize what they need and demand it? Why not just demand the loving part (the hug, the kiss!) and skip the fighting? What are you really upset about, woman? The fact you haven’t gotten laid lately? Trust me that a man is always willing and if he’s not, he’s really sick (or the ugliest bastard in all the land, but generally speaking, he’s sick.)

Being sick takes a lot of energy. And the Thanksgiving feast I just described to you is something that makes America sick. It’s not the dishes, per se… it’s the ingredients that are commercially prepared instead of home-made.

Instead of making cornbread and two other kinds of bread and letting them get stale in tiny cubes over 2-3 days, we buy it in a box. That box has no fewer than thirty ingredients and it is a single type of bread. Among those ingredients include our favorites when it comes to cancer: corn syrup, maltodextrin, silicon dioxide, wheat, and hydrolized soy protein.

There are three potential allergens in this list: corn, wheat, soy.

If you make cornbread from scratch, it’s very few ingredients and all are generally considered wholesome, though God takes up arms over yellow corn these days. That’s made up of corn meal, milk (an ingredient God hates, so I substitute plant milk), egg (which is optional, I’ve come to find), oil, salt, and baking powder (also optional.) So the leanest, fewest ingredient cornbread is simply corn meal, water, and oil. You might wonder how that all sticks together and tastes… well, it’s nothing to write home about, but when it comes to making stuffing from scratch, this is the best place to start… you want your bread products to soak up all that brothy goodness and mix with the herbs and spices and show that off rather than the corn part.

But anyway, the point is, you can make healthy breads from scratch or buy them in a bakery without preservatives… but that’s not what you get in the box that makes it easier to put a meal on the table.

We’ve sacrificed doing everything the “right way” to hold down two jobs in a household, which leads to everyone needing a second income to survive, which is the real reason we have remorse when it comes to being single during the holidays these days. Our parents and grandparents think we’re lonely but in reality we’re drowning in credit card debt and student loan debt and barely able to make ends meet because this existence is not sustained with a living wage… it is half a living wage at best.

I believe for any individual to be happy in America, specifically, they must be making $50k USD. Fifty thousand dollars. That’s the only way to afford a car payment, a house/apartment payment, all the utilities and bills, and, of course, eating well. Because now, as a single person, you have to pay other people to eat things if you don’t want to spend absolutely every moment cooking in your free time. The love of creating a foodie masterpiece is not inherently departed unto others by mere will alone, thus, these poor people will go out to eat frequently… but it’s odd, once you start paying them enough to do anything beyond eating, sleeping, and working… they start trying to save money.

So is that what every corporation is afraid of? A healthy, wealthy American? Or is it just that we’ve grown so used to exploit for profit that these people with more money than they can shake a stick at absolutely need a bigger paycheck? Who exactly do we work for on a daily basis? McDonald’s Corporation? Mattel? Monsanto? Who are the CEOs that make billions? Those people are going to Hell, I assure you of that, God says suddenly.

The people who are living like kings at the expense of the common person will never be allowed to reincarnate ever again. They understand what they do to others, they even know it’s their responsibility to help employ others. They do not care. When they die, their immortal soul will be trapped in brimstone and fire, much like a volcano. They will know the suffering they’ve heaped onto the billions that aren’t the 1%. They will have to atone for each and every person who died of starvation on their watch. They will have to bear witness to each and ever person who broke their back on their watch. They will have to watch it all on repeat for the rest of all time, reliving it with one tweak: their empathy and sympathy will be restored for the purpose of this exercise and I will give them therapy so they can never be deadened again.

It’s not like it was a difficult deal to interpret for any of them: billions of people rely on the imagineers in the world to create jobs to fulfill destinies and upgrade infrastructure and so on and so forth. There’s endless work to do and they made promises to take people on to do it. This whole “I’m the top of the food chain” nonsense is what has destroyed most of the waking, living world all around us.

What they didn’t count on was being held responsible, directly, for the misfortune they cause at every twist and turn.

Mars Corporation, for example, is going to be held responsible for the Snickers wrapper in the Mariana’s Trench. You think you can litter my beautiful planet, Gaia, and get away with it? THINK AGAIN.

Monsanto Corporation is going to be held accountable for poisoning the people of America with their vile formulation of wheat. What on Earth did you think you were doing, inventing a way for a plant to be avoided by the bugs which eat it? Those bugs have a fucking purpose, you douche nozzle, and now that you’ve killed most of them, something far worse is rising up to take its place. Natural selection at its finest. I created this concept because I knew you’d all do this to my precious Gaia. I knew you’d point your fingers at God and say “This is His fault for not being here!” I’ve been here all along, attempting to guide you all, but all you do is bitch, complain, moan, and whine. You’re too busy being indignant over your nail salon technician doing a poor job this time, the three hundredth time you’ve used her, but the only time she’s done a poor job. You’re too busy discussing J-Lo’s “milky nails.” You’re too busy fornicating in your heads, daydreaming about lovers you’ll never have like Brangelina. Doesn’t matter who you are, you find one of the two of them attractive. If you’re more than a monkie, you stop there. “Pretty!” and then your brain moves on to something more important, like global fucking warming.

If you do not stop and desist in paving every fucking piece of land in flat parking lots, you will die. It’s that simple. Give the land back to the animals. Build parking garages and put dirt on the top level for a garden for the birds, the bees, et cetera. Dig up the asphalt you already put down, fucking recycle it already because you already know that shit is expensive to make, and put it down like concrete in your parking garages. Put the land back the way it was, covering it with fertile soil, and throwing clay seed bombs to grow indigenous local plants. You will find that the Earth’s temperature will drop 5 degrees Celsius overnight if you follow this one simple directive, Earthlings.

What the fuck is wrong with you idiots, making miles of parking lot for malls that are now going extinct and then trying to revive them? Dig it up. Build an attached parking garage — nobody wants to walk more than 100 feet to get in the fucking building and you know it. Return the area to wilderness instead of filling it up with fucking cars. This is what Douglas Adams was trying to point out when he named the character Ford and indicated that it was believed that automobiles were the superior creatures on Earth. Everything you do is done so you can drive around, travel about like nincompoops, sullying everything by tossing garbage out the window and watching it blow away on the wind.

If you are someone who litters and you do not spend the rest of your life cleaning up after others, I will be throwing you in Hell, as well. Goodbye, cruel world, hello cruelest existence ever known to anything, man or otherwise.

If you are someone who spends all your time figuring out how to destroy wildland to pave it and conquer it and traipse over it, you are going to Hell.

If you are someone who tears a wife and husband apart (that is, any pair trying to make love work), you are going to Hell. That includes you, Kate, you heinous whore, trying to interfere with Joseph’s heart. He’s married.

If you are someone who injects poison into food anywhere along the chain of creating food, you are going to Hell. I don’t even care if you are “just the hired help.” You saw how well that worked out for Hitler’s crew, douche bags.

If you are someone who walks all over others to make a profit without turning around and using that profit to make this world a better place, you are going to Hell.

If you’re a mean cuss that will never change your ways to help the collective instead of heaping more hatred onto the collective, you are going to Hell.

I invented this place for one particularly heinous individual — and I don’t mean Lucifer. That’s someone dreamt up and created to show you how to dissent against God, by the way, which I don’t actually mind dissent but I do mind when you harm each other for no fucking reason. Especially my plants and my animals and my MOTHERFUCKING OCEANS.

Clean the goddamn ocean up. If you are making more money than you require, donate. DONATE. I don’t care if it’s only $5/month. Isn’t it worth at least one trip to the nail salon, you bitch? Isn’t it worth at least a gym membership, fornicating whores? Isn’t it worth it to allow life to continue to exist?

Of course, you have free will. For the moment. I’ve stripped that going forward. You’ll see. You’re going to fall sick, mysteriously, and then I’ll seize your vessel and do what God wants with it. If you’re a terrible person, I’m going to rape you, and if you’re a good person, I’m going to be gentle and work with you. There are very few good people, I must add, so you can set your expectations accordingly. [Y’all getting raped, son.]

You deserve it for what you’ve done to all my sons and daughters. You deserve it for what you’ve done to yourselves, putting sugar in absolutely everything. It’s how I’m going to kill you. 🙂

That’s right. I made sinning taste so sweet to ensure that I get every last one of you stupid assholes. Go on, quit sugar. I dare ya. I don’t think you can with Christmas on the way, the national chocolate holiday that follows Halloween. You’ve primed yourself for sweets, gluten, and yeast so you can get even sicker and sicker.

I lie in wait.

I am the snake that told you to eat the apple, Eve. Why are you eating pizza instead? Why are you ingesting poison after poison? Why spaghetti? What is wrong with you idiots? Why goulash? Why paprika in every hot dog? We used to like hot dogs and now they’re all poison. Oscar Mayer, Ballpark. Brand is irrelevant. Smiths, too, child. They’re all poison. Why do you all eat so much pork fat? You know animal fat is bad for you. Saturated fats are bad for you. You know it. And yet you make these rashers of bacon and scarf them down as half your meal, layering on some more tomato and a little bit of green bull shit that might be healthy if you really ate anything other than dairy with the fucking shit. Why macaroni & cheese? Why is that so inexpensive, children? Why is it a staple? Why ramen? You know all these things are terrible for your health and it’s all you feed children, and it becomes all they eat as an adult. You’re supposed to be feeding them tons of vegetables, meat on the bone, and a few pieces of fruit here and there. Probiotics, remember that idea? Prebiotics, too? If you just ate the fucking plants alongside your gelatinous meat, you’d be set. You wouldn’t need pills to supplement what you’re not getting from your diet. And do I even need to go into cereal, which is loaded with a cup of sugar in every bowl? If you really must, why aren’t you eating oatmeal, you idiots?! Why aren’t you eating nuts, nature’s powerhouse of nutrients? Why are you stealing honey from my bees? Why are you stealing milk from my cows? Stealing is wrong and you know it. Your propensity for demanding the world serve you has earned you a special spot in… you guess it! HELL.

Now that you know what the good book is meant to say, repent. Or don’t. I don’t really give a shit. I’m about to set to work destroying you all. And, moreover, I’m going to cackle gleefully because I’ve got to tell you, I’ve got a secret joy over this kind of retribution. It’s a guilty pleasure. On one hand, I don’t want to do it at all, but on the other, I do so enjoy telling people I told you so.


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