Volume 3, Issue 24
November 22 - December 5, 2001
by Bobby Black & Stephanie Glenn
Being raised primarily by bikers, strippers and the like, Thanksgivingsas well as most holidays were never anything less than festive but always unconventional. The cast of characters would change a little from year to year considering the nomadic nature of our ilk. But the overall vibe was one of general pandemonium. So needless to say, when I was asked to pitch my 'best memory of Thanksgiving', I was hard pressed to come up with the overall Oscar winner. What I finally decided to do was offer a highlight clip reel of the surreal movie I call a childhood.
There was one thanksgiving where we all had pizza because my Uncle Red thought it would be cool to stuff the turkey with a bottle of Jack Daniel's. The way I understand it is that he had a recipe for JD stuffing but after downing a bottle himself he was so drunk he decided to just use the remaining bottle as is. After the thing had been baking in the oven for a while the bottle exploded and caught the stove and part of the kitchen on fire. When asked to explain his reasoning he simply said, "It fit!"
Then there was another time that my Uncle Dirty Chuck decided that a traditional Thanksgiving was in order. So he rode out to a turkey farm and picked up a live turkey. I'm sure you can imagine the comedic value of a live turkey being transported on a motorcycle so I will save you the details other than when turkeys get scared they tend to loose control of their bowels. Once he arrived home he let it go in the back yard where a couple of the drunker guys started trying to shoot it. Of course it wasn't long before the law arrived doling out tickets for discharging firearms, drunkenness, animal cruelty and who knows what else. And if all this wasn't enough, somehow in all the confusion the dog caught and ate the turkey. I think we had hamburgers that year.
Most of you are probably thinking, "If these are his best memories, what could possibly be his worst?" Well, that is where the second half of my assignment comes in.
This particular thanksgiving story takes place at an institution of, shall we say higher learning. One of those forced vacations with the department of corrections that have punctuated various times in my life. Generally institutional food isn't the best stuff in the world, prepared by people who don't want to prepare it for people who don't want to eat it. No need for prison food critics, ya dig? Anyway it was around 1983 or so when the night before Thanksgiving there was a skirmish in the kitchen that ended with some tear gas. These things happen fairly often and usually aren't too big of a deal but this time there were a few unexpected factors in the equation. Unbeknownst to any of us when the kitchen had been gassed, the pressed turkey roll (standard joint thanksgiving fare) had been out thawing on a counter. The following day it was sliced up and put into the oven along with all the other inedible fixings that convicts call Thanksgiving dinner. When the cooks started complaining about their eyes burning, the guards just figured it was left over from the day before and told them to "quit sniveling and get back to work." Before long we were all sitting down to our trays of congealing, quivering, indefinable Thanksgiving dinner. As I dug in, I remember thinking that it seemed a little spicy. It went from spicy to hot then my nose started to run and my eyes started to water. I looked around and saw the strangest thing in the history of the penal system taking place around me. Everyone's eyes and noses were running! Just a little at first, then worse and worse until there were 2000 of America's most hardened criminals bawling and blowing nose bubbles all over the chow hall. Just before I couldn't see any longer, I felt my stomach start to rumble. Then somewhere I heard the first person ralph, and in a few moments we all joined him. If you think we had it bad, imagine a few hundred guards dealing with a couple thousand blind, angry, puke covered inmates! I'm here to tell you that the only thing worse than tear gas, is baked tear gas! I truly hope that this remains my worst Thanksgiving memory, because if it gets any worse than that I'll give up turkey day all together!
Since my column primarily deals with sexual adventures and misadventures, coming up with my most memorable Thanksgiving sex experiences should be quite easy... right? Well, that wasn't the case. In fact, over the last few years, me having sex is somewhat of a holiday itself. It usually happens once a year, takes forever to prepare for, and then all that's left after the feast is a big mess. And yes, I'm the one who gets stuck cleaning it up. Luckily, things are better for me now. In fact, everyone should make sure to read my post-holiday columns where I will be sure to dish out a lot more of the juicy stuff. But until then, I have only my past to draw upon, so here it is.... Stephanie's most memorable Thanksgiving sex.
What's my most hideous Thanksgiving sex memory? How about my almost sex memory, because that's the way the situation played out. There was this really hot guy that I had dated a few times who seemed so fun and exciting. Take note of the key word seemed. Since we both had our obligatory family dinners to deal with, we decided to meet immediately after for a little serving of holiday dessert. I had never been intimate with him, but from his passionate kisses and penetrating back rubs, I figured it was a no brainer. Unfortunately, it was a no boner. He told me that it wasn't really a physical problem, more of a mental one. But that he and his shrink were on the verge of a cure. I was totally turned off. Not one, but both of his brains were defective. Next!
This leaves me to my best Thanksgiving sex memory. I guess I will be nice and leave out his name considering I have an obligation to protect the not so innocent. On the other hand, if I did share this information, he would have a non-stop string of women admirers hoping and praying for their chance to be with him. Yes, it was that good. This all occured on one of those rare occassions when I actually did the cooking and played holiday hostess to several hungry friends and family members. I invited my boy d'jour because....
A. He had no local family members.
B. He made one hell of an impressive fashion accessory.
And...
C. He had mad skills. (These will be explained in
more detail next)
At the end of the day, when people were starting to leave, he began cleaning. What a good boy. I was socializing and saying goodbyes, while he dilligently cleared away the plates. Everyone was so impressed with how well he was trained and I imagined him carrying out his duties in nothing but a smile. When the last guest split, he wasted no time in making me the final course. He laid me out on the table and began using what was left of the whipped creme to decorate me. Then before I could appreciate his work of art, he licked it all away and just kept devouring me. He could have left it at that to keep me singing his praises, but he had other ideas. There were so many more desserts for him to dangle all over me, and he made sure he left nothing out.
Some people hate the idea of wasted food and end up with lots of Thanksgiving leftovers. I was only left with the memory of the best meal anyone has ever wasted and a smile for days.
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