Nothing is more frustrating than waking up on the twenty-fifth of December and realizing that it’s too late to buy the ingredients for your signature Christmas snowballs. This year, get a head start on the neighborhood kids; mush all of your Thanksgiving leftovers together and freeze them. Those Christmas carolers won’t know what hit ’em!
Construct a Thanksgiving-leftovers mask and wear it to work.
Is your office stuffy and buttoned up? Get your fellow employees to crack a smile with a Thanksgiving-leftovers mask! Strap a turkey breast to your forehead and smear cranberry sauce all over your lips. If you have a piece of pumpkin pie, affix it to your chin as a Thanksgiving goatee. Your co-workers will be laughing so hard that they’ll barely notice you being escorted off the premises.
Stare at the leftovers for hours while chanting “Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving.”
In this fast-paced world, sometimes we forget to appreciate the things that are right in front of us. This holiday season, make sure that you don’t get caught up in the hustle and bustle of modern living, by focussing your unblinking gaze on your leftovers and recognizing their existence as physical objects in the space-time continuum. Chanting the word “Thanksgiving” will help you to achieve true seasonal tantric mindfulness.
Put the leftovers in a blender and make a paste that you can use to survive the cold winter to come.
It’s clear that it will be a long and hard winter. The grain supply isn’t as plentiful as we had hoped, and the damn coyotes have attacked twelve of the cattle. Make sure that you don’t succumb to a frosty demise over the coming months, by stockpiling Thanksgiving paste!
Put your leftovers out on your stoop in case anyone wants them.
We are all a part of the sharing economy. Look at the lovely items that people are leaving out on their stoops! Why, just the other day I picked up a painting of two children whose faces had been slashed out of the canvas. Contribute to this trend by putting your Thanksgiving leftovers in front of your building. If neighbors point out that you’re making the raccoon problem much worse, throw a Thanksgiving snowball at them.
Worry that your turkey might have been the one that was meant to be pardoned.
We’ve all seen the movies in which babies get switched at birth in the maternity ward. What if the turkey whose leftovers you’re staring at right now was actually destined to be the turkey pardoned by President Obama? You have eaten a turkey that deserved freedom! Let the guilt fester until you can think of nothing else. Remove your Thanksgiving mask—you’re no longer in the mood.
Pay a witch veterinarian to attempt to reanimate your turkey.
Wracked with guilt about your role in an innocent turkey’s untimely death, seek out your local witch veterinarian. Beg him to do what he can, but he will say that he doesn’t have enough intact turkey parts. If only you hadn’t made so much Thanksgiving paste, you could have saved him, God damn it.