Thanks, Harvest, You Good Ol' Sonofabitch.

This upcoming weekend is Thanksgiving… in Canada. I’ll refrain from calling it the “real” Thanksgiving, and instead, just accept that our southern neighbo(u)rs like having their big holidays mashed together like peas and potatoes on Uncle Jim’s plate.

Personally, I’m a big fan of having Thanksgiving in early October.  It eases me into the fall spirit, gives me a long weekend to drink away cope with the loss of summer, and makes way for the best holiday of all: Halloween.  Unlike many people, I have only grown to love Halloween more and more with age. Sure, as a child it was fun shit with the free candy, but as far as I’m concerned, drinking in a costume surrounded by other people drinking in costumes wins. Hands down. I can buy my candy on sale on November 1^st, or steal it from children like the rest of the world.

No? That’s not what you do? Interesting…  But there’s plenty of time before Halloween, and right now I’m talking about Thanksgiving.  Let’s stay on topic.

In Canada, Thanksgiving is an annual holiday to give thanks to the close of the harvest season. We’ve been celebrating this shit since 1957. A whole 54 years. Don’t our deep-rooted traditions and rich history just warm your heart? 

While our Thanksgiving may not have anything to do with pilgrims and slaughtering, and may not have started in 1863, WHADDUP America, Canada takes pride in its ability to turn out some pretty badass cornucopias.

"Horn of Plenty" is right.

Jealous?  Yea, that’s what I thought.  I bet you didn’t expect a history lesson on Canada’s shortcomings awesomeness. You’re welcome.

This year, I’m heading to my native land of Ottawa, Ontario, to bask in the glory of giving thanks. This means 2 things: #1 I’m going to eat a shit-ton of food and #2 I’m going to drink a shit-ton of booze. During these consumption escapades, I’ll be sure to pay homage to our national holiday by rolling around in some leaves, stabbing a pumpkin and making a scarecrow (as #2 above ^ pretty much results in that outcome anyway.)

This year, some friends and I will also be doing the hour drive to go here:

Parc Omega! Throw your kids out the window and drive like fuck!

Words can’t describe how hard I hope to see this kid jumping around, unclaimed and unsupervised in front of moving traffic with wild animals.  This is the stuff dreams are made of, people.

And you can imagine my delight and excitement to see they have these little fuckers treats on their premises, as well:

Oh haiiiiiiiiii

 

Stay tuned, folks, this Thanksgiving’s going to be amazeballs.