My Thanksgiving hot take that does not deserve to be a Thanksgiving hot take is simply this: Turkey sucks. It’s the worst. It’s not good. Will I eat a deli meat turkey sandwich? Of course. That’s a delight. It’s salted and preserved and god knows what else Big Processed Food does to it in order to make it edible. But Thanksgiving turkey? Like, the whole bird, out of the oven, sliced and served? I would rather eat … I mean, I’d rather eat just about anything. Ramen noodles? Yes, please. Steak from the dollar store refrigerator? I’ll take seconds. Fruit Loops with just-expired skim milk? Slurp slurp. Turkey is terrible. No one can convince me otherwise. “Oh, you haven’t had my Aunt Susan’s turkey,” I can hear you saying. “That’s a delicious bird.” No it’s not. You know what’s a delicious bird? Roast chicken. That’s a delicious bird. Turkey is a disgusting bird. Bad bird. Bad. Bird. “Oh, you have to deep fry it!” I can hear you saying, to which I say, you can probably deep fry a turd — as in, an actual turd — and it would be good. So sure, if someone wants to deep fry me a turkey, I’ll try it, but I bet “deep fried anything else” is better than “deep fried turkey.” “Well, you have to have the dark meat,” you might be saying. “That’s where it’s at.” Again: No. For starters, I don’t trust people who like dark meat. Seriously. There’s something wrong with you. I base this solely as back in the bad old days, McDonald’s chicken McNuggets would be both white and dark meat, which meant you had to order the 20-piece and bite into each one like you’re defusing a bomb in order to suss out if you could continue eating the delightful white mean McNugget or if you had to take the dark meat McNugget and give it to your dog, who was 50/50 to eat it. So yes. Dark meat, no, no, no, a thousand times no. And white meat turkey? It’s as dry as a mummified camel carcass in Death Valley on a summer day, filled with sand and regret. NO. Of course, I recognize I live in the land of plenty and can afford to turn my nose up at this foul fowl. Cry me a river, right? But since I’m here … I can also successfully turn my nose up at mashed potatoes (creamy and buttery, no thanks) and green bean casserole, which is a double whammy because A) cream of mushroom soup, vomit and B) I was born, raised, and live in New Jersey and refuse to eat any food stuff that has the word “casserole” in it, go back to Iowa you freak. So in case you were wondering — and don’t pretend like your weren’t — here is the full list of Thanksgiving food items I will eat: 1) Stuffing: There is no better food on planet Earth. Stove Top or fancy-pants, I don’t care. If it’s stale bread cooked in water and seasoned, I am in. 2) Cranberry sauce: I’m the rare cat that not only enjoys cranberry sauce, but I don’t care if it’s the gelatinous glob from a can or if someone painstakingly made it on the stove. 3) Pillsbury crescent rolls: I’d poke that doughboy’s tummy until he squeals, you hear me? And finally … 4) Bourbon: Not technically sure if this is a Thanksgiving staple in your house, but if I’m not half in the bag come kickoff of the second football game, things have gone sideways. Bonus: If I drink enough, I’m liable to eat some of your disgusting turkey. Happy Thanksgiving!