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Volume 1, Issue 5 | 11/16/11 - 11/30/11 | www.theblacksheeponline.com
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The
Black Sheep
“A College Newspaper That’s Actually About College”
tale of a traumatic thanksgiving Anna Dubose wrote this
So… Thanksgiving. On one hand, hell yes! Turkey and stuffing and potatoes and macaroni and cheese and wine! Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade! The dog show! Wine! Sounds great, right? Wrong. The following is a rundown of a friend’s typical Thanksgiving. I know, because I’ve witnessed the horrors before with my own two eyes. Names have been changed to protect the douchebags. 9:47 a.m.: Mom beats on your door for the fifth time and demands that you get up right now, young lady, or there will be hell to pay. You curb the urge to throw something at her, toss on some clothes and plant yourself on the couch downstairs. At least you can watch the Macy’s Parade, ‘cause nothing says Thanksgiving quite like a gigantic Snoopy balloon! 10:20 a.m.: Dad comes in and asks that you help your mom just so she’ll shut up. You grudgingly oblige and start peeling potatoes. 10:41 a.m.: Your first guests arrive—it’s Grandma Jane and Grandpa Phil! Ditch the potatoes and go say hi. Regret the decision when grandma eyes your shirt and makes a snide remark. You have to remind yourself you’re not actually “a floozy.” 10:50 – 10:56 a.m.: Trapped in an awkward conversation with your weird Aunt Gloria about your love life – “Who are you dating? Is he ‘The One?’ You know your cousin got married straight out of college… you’re not going to disappoint the family, are you?” Grandma Jane overhears and butts in, asking just how much longer you’re going to make her wait for great-grandchildren. You die a little inside. 10:57 a.m.: Wait is that… yes, it is! Wine! You pretend you’ve just remembered you volunteered to set the table and make a beeline for the kitchen. Screw the silverware; you head for the sauce instead. If anything will save you today, it’s the wine.
Other stuff
Inside
11:03 a.m.: Two glasses of wine down, you volunteer to go in the backyard and supervise the kids. Your six-year-old cousin asks if you’ll swing with her and you agree. Suddenly this day isn’t so bad after all. 11:04 a.m.: Text younger sister and ask her to bring you a glass of wine outside, pretty please. 11:06 a.m.: Sister arrives with a Solo cup of wine. You thank her. She rolls her eyes and leaves, and you think you hear her mutter something that sounds suspiciously like “drunk ass” under her breath. Lil sis is all grown up! 11:19 a.m.: Break up fight between your fourteen-year-old brother and fifteen-year-old cousin. The cousin “accidentally” touched your left boob. Weird. You tell them to get their shit together. This is Thanksgiving, a time for celebration. Brother reminds you that Thanksgiving is a stupid, self-indulgent holiday created by greedy Americans to mask the genocide of Native Americans by our asshole ancestors, the bastards. You pretend you didn’t hear him. Back to the wine. 11:20 a.m.: Six-year-old cousin asks you what “bastard” means. Before you can answer, an uncle comes outside and wrangles the kids in, declaring it’s time to eat. Saved! 11:25 a.m.: Awkward prayer by your Dad, who you strongly suspect has been drinking scotch all morning. You wonder how he managed to carve the bird without necessitating a call to 911. 11:27 a.m.: Let the food coma commence. 11:41 a.m: Uncle Greg and brother get into a conversation about religion. Mom protests, saying this isn’t the time or place, but they insist. You and your sister feed scraps to the dog under the table and you wish you were still in bed. 11:55 a.m.: You are drunk. So is everyone else. Slurring 8-yearolds are hilarious. Wait, it’s not even noon yet?
04: the mistake
they never seem so ugly or psycho when you’re drunk.
11:56 a.m.: Aunt Gloria clinks her knife against her wine glass and says she has an announcement. Proceeds to tell the entire table that your cousin Erin, who lives in Florida, is having another baby! When the applause dies down, Grandma Jane asks if you’re next. 11:57 – 11:58 a.m.: Silence. Long, awkward silence. 11:59 a.m.: Six-year-old cousin asks where babies come from. Aunt Tricia launches into a story about the stork, which your older cousins immediately refute. Noon: The guys relocate to the living room to watch football. Your little cousins drag you upstairs to watch the National Dog Show. At least up there you can take a nap without anyone else all over your ass or your grandma staring into your soul 12:00 – 12:49 p.m.: Food coma plus copious amounts of wine equals PTFO. 12:49 p.m.: Cousins ask if they can play with your make-up. Halfasleep, you say whatever and tell them where the cheap stuff is. Fall back asleep. 3:09 p.m.: Wake up to an empty room. See that the Doberman won Best in Show. Consider getting into bed but go pee first. Realize cousins smeared make-up all over your face. Little bastards. 3:15 p.m.: After cleaning your face, go downstairs to see that everyone has left. Mom gives you an evil look and explains that she bailed for you and told them you didn’t feel well. Brother says none of them believed it and knew you were drunk as shit. You flip him off and the two of your proceed to wrestle it out in the middle of the living room. Dad shouts at you to knock it off because you’re blocking the football game. You realize you’ve made it! Everyone’s gone. You caught a good buzz. Your Grandma only embarrassed the shit out of you in front of everyone once, and you even fit in a nap.
06: college Budget ballin’
two words: ramen and mooching. Learn them, love them.
10 -11: two dope interviews we chat with dj 12th planet and songwriter mat kearney.