The most important part of Thanksgiving is location. For those of you with enough taste to live in the Northeastern US (that means within four hours of Plymouth Rock), you have passed the first test. If you don’t live in the Northeast you should probably move. Otherwise you can have your pathetic sham of a pseudo-thanksgiving in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

Décor? First you need to set the scene with some fall foliage. Now this can really make or break you. You need to have the prettiest leaves on your street. If this beautiful tree “belongs” to Peggy from next door you should probably dig it up in the dead of night with a backhoe and move it onto your front lawn. She deserves it after that one time five years ago when she asked to “borrow” a cup of flour. Nobody will dare question your dominance in book group now!!

Moving inside, you need some big-ass gourds to intimidate your teenage daughter. She thinks she needs birth control? Let’s see how she feels after seeing the 20-inch festive butternut squash.

For the menu you will need several things. The first thing you will need is a cider press. Since your sister Joanne moved down the street from an apple orchard, you have to press your own. The game has changed. Farmer’s market fare will not do.

Potatoes must remain in the ground until the last possible moment. If you don’t live on a farm the best solution is to get some from the farmer’s market and bury them immediately.

The last thing you’ll need is a turkey that is inappropriately large for the number of guests you are hosting.  To ensure this, it must be culled from your own flock the morning of. This is especially important because your bitch sister-in-law called to ask if she could bring COD to your thanksgiving . YOUR Thanksgiving. She must be high on quailudes. Newsflash Debbie: nobody gives a flying fuck how fresh your Nantucket cod is – it is thanksgiving – I don’t give a flying fuck if you decided to become a pesceterian last Tuesday. You will eat my turkey and you will like it.

THIS THANKSGIVING WILL BE A LOVELY FUCKING BONDING TIME MEAL.