Day 408

Today I had my second Canadian Thanksgiving dinner. This year was different, this year there were no overbearing Canadian mothers and no getting drunk by 2 pm. This year there was the following:

Yams with marshmallows, ridiculously good and ridiculed for having marshmallows.

Mulled wine, yeah, it's almost reason enough to invest in spices, almost.

A clutch of nerdy gay men who talked about pornos and the infamous "Clippy" character from Microsoft whilst continuously checking their fancy phones and tweeting.

In place of the turkey was salmon. I know that I should be all impressed by this but I really just wanted to eat a dead bird that can ohh so easily contain salmonella.

We didn't go around the table and say what we are thankful for, partly because we didn't eat at a table.

One of our hosts locked me in the bedroom with him to tell me that he's learned how to knit so that he can knit his partner a hat for his birthday. When we walked out everyone looked at us like we'd fucked each other.

There was an apple pie and a pumpkin pie and the woman who made them begged and later demanded praise for them.

The whipped cream was homemade and there was rye whisky in it.

A gorgeous man (who of course is fucking gay) running up the street carrying a ham in oven mitts that (of course) matched his outfit.'

All in all, it was better than last year, or I was just more sober. And I am totally all for replacing a repressing mother-type with a gaggle of gays, it's way more fun.

Tip of the Day: No matter how many roasted edamame you eat they will never be as tasty as salt and vinegar potato chips. Damnit.

-Canadian Castaway