What The Hell Does Rant Mean?

I might be the luckiest person ever to have a best friend like you. We’ll laugh our asses off many more times to come while Jake looks at us baffled. Hii-OOOOOOOOO!!

It’s almost time for our annual family Thanksgiving dinner. This time of year always floods me with memories of holidays past. The food. Turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, pumpkin pie, the canned cranberry sauce making slurping sounds as the aluminum container gives birth to it’s ruddy, gelatinous cylinder. Football and napping. Invigorating family conversation. You know, the stereotypical Thanksgiving activities. What separates our family from the rest is our Jacobson family games. First we start with “In God we fussed” which comprises of my sister refusing to participate in the family dinner blessing, not because she is offended by religion, but because she likes to share a little holiday misery. This is followed by a few rounds of unnecessary but festive gossip. Then ultimately the after-dinner throwdown spawned by accusations of bad mothering, bad childing, or “you read that jeopardy question wrong”ing. Then the screaming match, the wall punch, the vase toss, and ending with the spectacular 911 call. My little cheat to winning these games? Rum. And plenty of it.