Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Turkey Lurkey Time (or "Any Place I Hang My Fat is Home")

Happy Thanksgibbing, Bloggiturkeys! Ya know, I just have so much to be thankful for this year, and thank you for asking: I have brilliant, talented, beautiful friends (and obviously, so have they); I have a gorgeous apartment and a faggy little cat who I just adore; I have a new President headed to the White House, a couple a’ bucks in my bra, and best of all… after tomorrow, I can start listening to my Christmas CDs again! You know how the gays are with the Christmas music. We live for it. Yes – even the Jewy ones. I absolutely hate it when my anti-semitic friends try and convince me that I should be excluded from the joy and merriment of Christmas music just because I killed Jesus. Hello?? That was, like, in the 70’s! Anyway, it doesn't mean I can't enjoy a little Harry Connick "Sleigh Ride" on my playlist. It just gets me so upsot! (Upsot??) However, unlike you goyim, I do not believe Christmas music should be featured (as it has been in every damn store I walk into, since November 1st) until after Thanksgiving. Listening to it anytime before then just makes me feel... I don’t know… slutty. And to me it’s like wearing white after Labor Day. Or like wearing underwear after lunchtime – You just don’t do it, you know? You just don’t do it.

I’m also thankful that I will be spending the holiday in Connecticut, as a guest in someone else’s home. I do not envy those of you who are hosting. Nothing stresses me more. Of course, this is the time of year when everyone in the world decides to take advantage of visit their friends and family in the Big friggin’ Apple. It’s at this time I notice so many New Yorkers on the street, playing tour guide to visiting out-of-towners, and saying things like, “…Then, I’ll take you to my favorite brunch spot – They shot “Sex and the City” there a buncha times! And then after that, we can go see a Brrroadway show…!

Hearing such enthusiastic rallying and seeing that oblivious sparkle behind the glazed eyes of the receiving parties makes me cringe. I was an out-of-towner at one time, too. And it was the excitement of my trips here and the false notion that NYC was just a 24-hour, all-you-can-stand brunch and Broadway buffet, that originally put the idea in my head to move here. I don’t regret it for a second, of course. But I urge the rest of you, trying to impress your impressionable young friends from Schmuck-Fuck Mississippi, to cool it a little bit with the up-sell. This dump is already too crowded, and you’re only gonna make more! If you want to give 'em the real New York experience, handle things like I do when I have guests in town: “Tonight we’re gonna sit on the train during rush hour from about 6PM to 10:30PM… Then tomorrow morning I want us to wake up nice and early so that you can yell at my landlord about the hot water issue… Then after we flush all of your money down my toilet, we’ll look for quarters in my couch so that we can afford dinner!” And then sing, “NEW YORK, NEW YOOOOOOOOOORK… A HELLUVA TOWN…!” Just don't give them any bright ideas! (This has been an important message from the New York City Department of Kvetching and Tourism.)

Have a gorgeous holiday, Kids! And don't forget to watch my mutherdarling, Broadway's own Tituss Burgess on the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade!

I'm off to the gym for a little precautionary Thanksgiving Day workout. Nevertheless, by the next time you see me I'll be 60 pounds overweight and loving it! GOODNIGHT, TURKS!

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