Thanksgiving, Bitch.

Yo I gots a secret I gotta reveal

I never told nobody this, I don’t know how they gonna feel

Let me first make clear, I don’t want any misgivings

I MOTHAFUCKIN’ LOVE ME MOTHAFUCKIN’ THANKSGIVINGS (yeah, ALL of them)

I love that dang parade with that monkey made of sock

And I’ve got a thing for pilgrims, bitch, they MAKE MY PLYMOUTH ROCK

But the one thing that might leave you just  LITTLE BIT murky

BITCH I fuckin’ HATE fuckinmothafuckin’ TURKEY

Not not to get all Freudian, a rapper never should

But I think my turkey loathing dates back to my childhood

See my Jewish mother loved me quite a mothafuckin’ bunch

And to ensure I got my protein packed me turkey for lunch

At first I didn’t mind, I’d just unpack my lunch and chew it

But as Jewish mothers often do, mine tends to overdo it

The turkey grew and grew to make sure that I was fed

All the sudden that dang sandwich was as big as my damn head

I was just a little girl, did she really think I’d eat a

Fuckin’ half a pound of turkey stuffed into a MINI PITA?

Kids would watch me eat it every day for years and years

And I’d be all covered in turkey smell and mustard (and some tears)

I tried to tell my mother that the turkey was for rookies

Why couldn’t she be cool and pack me SNACKWELL FUCKIN’ COOKIES?

But I’d lug around that turkey really looking like a fool

And that’s the reason why I wasn’t popular in school (and this, and maybe this)

So when I sit down at Thanksgiving I say, “Mmmm this turkey’s GREAT!”

But little do they know I ain’t got NONE upon my plate

All throughout the years I’ve gotten really good at bluffing

So that nobody would know I eat ENTIRE PLATES OF STUFFING

I see that bowl of stuffing and my lil eyeball twinkles

It’s my second favorite food group, next, of course, to RAINBOW SPRINKLES

My favorite kind of stuffing? Now, that’s up to some debate

But I love so many kinds, so bitch, I DON’T DISCRIMINATE

I once had a cornbread kind thanks to that Al Roker fella

And I tasted chestnut stuffing, LOVE FREE SAMPLES, CITARELLA

But my favorite’s challah stuffing, bitch, that always is a hit

I’m telling you I’d take a bath ALL UP IN THAT SHIT

My mom-in-law’s is so good, may require 5-star Yelping

NO I DO NOT MIND IF I TAKE  A SEVENTH ANOTHER HELPING

My guy and I, we love to eat, but today our tastes get clashy

He loves his Thanksgiving food real mothafuckin’ trashy

The whole rest of the year he loves the Michelin man

But he won’t eat cranberries that aren’t shaped just like the can

And he loves to fill his plate with that nasty greenish slop

He loves that green bean casserole FRENCH’S ONIONS ON THE TOP

But man, I’m thankful for him, and for my dad and brother

And I’m really fuckin’ thankful for my turkey lovin’ mother

Who always really cared ’bout the nutrition that I got

If you measured love in turkey, then she sure loves me a lot

So go and eat your dishes, I hope you do adore ’em

And eat them with your loved ones and tell them you’re thankful for ’em

And thanks to all of you who read my silly little words

Now I’ve gots to eat my stuffing–bitch, that turkey’s for the birds

 Gobble.

My Sweetie, Bitch.

Yo just last week was our anniversary

And marriage, let me say, is everything I’d hoped it’d be

We’re partners and lovers, a team and best friends

We watch The Bachelorette and fall asleep before it ENDS

These past four years have truly been nothing short of heaven

He does wake up before me cuz he has to work at seven

And every day I wake up knowing just what I’ll encounter

When I walk into the kitchen and I look upon the counter

Although he leaves so quietly and doesn’t make a racket

HE NEVER FUCKIN’ THROWS AWAY HIS MOTHER FUCKIN’ SPLENDA PACKET

Ya see, we love our coffee maker, like I can’t even express-o

A morning ain’t a morning til this bitch has her Nespresso

He always makes his cappuccino from the comfort of our home

He knows just how to sweeten it and not disturb his FOAM

Two thirds of a Splenda, and he stirs in gingerly

I’M DOWN WITH OCD, YEAH YOU KNOW ME

He drinks his morning java and he cleans up the machine

He puts on that little stethoscope and flees the fuckin’ scene

So then I wake up about an hour or so later

And see some yellow on the counter next to the ‘frigerator

Believe it or not, he’s a doctor, not a trucker

BUT HE NEVER THROWS AWAY THAT SPLENDA PACKET MOTHA FUCKER

The trash can’s right below, it don’t require you to think

(We Jews all keep our garbage cans underneath the sink)

Now my husband is real brilliant, this fact I must admit

He not only is a doctor, but does RESEARCH AND SHIT

If you have a question, you can bet he’ll have an answer

I bet him a B.J. that he’ll probably cure cancer

There is nary a disease that he cannot diagnose

BUT HE CANNOT THROW AWAY THAT MOTHA FUCKIN’ SUCRALOSE

This problem used to take place only in our house

Cuz who would clean your Splenda up other than your spouse?

But the other day we stopped to get an iced coffee or two

At this little shop by us that does a mean COLD BREW

I knew he wouldn’t do it there, so I just took sip

But I turned around and saw that he had left out JUST THE TIP

Just the TIP of the Splenda, yeah–word to your mom

Just the TIP? It’s a coffee shop–not the fuckin’ PROM

It’s like my smart sexy man has this crazy presumption

That the world needs to keep tabs on his Splenda consumption

He can’t believe he does this cuz he’s usually so neat

And he always says he’s sorry cuz he’s NAT-U-RALLY SWEET

And he goes to hold my hand, and I feel his wedding ring

In these past four years of marriage, bitch, I wouldn’t change a thing

He says he’ll try to change next time, but really I don’t care

Cuz that little yellow packet lets me know that he was there

We just went out for coffee at this little cafe

He said, “Don’t you even worry, I know what you’re gonna say”

“It’s our fifth year of marriage now, so Baby, let’s begin it”

And he walked right by the garbage and he threw his Splenda in it on itImageword.

Passover, Bitch.

Easter is upon us, bitch, and as you might suspect

I ain’t out celebratin’ Jesus bein’ RESURRECT

While all you kids are mackin’ on your Peeps and chocolate eggs

I’ll eat some mandel bread at home and shavin’ my JEWISH LEGS

While you don your Lilly Pulitzer and patent leather shoes

I will celebrate a different day with my fellow Jews

It’s a very special holiday, can you tell me which?

Toss that bread out the window cuz IT’S PASSOVER, BITCH!

So for the next week you bet yo ass I am goin’ to be

One of them bitches who’s all, “UMMMM…Is this gluten-free?”

So gather all around, all my sisters and brothers,

And I’ll tell you why this night is so much DIFFERENT THAN THE OTHERS

We tell the tale of our escape from the Pharaoh and some haters

We still eat and still complain but we call these dinners SEDERS

Our people fled from Egypt thanks to locusts and some frogs

So that their greatgreatgreatgreat granddaughter could write some RAPPING BLOGS

And Pharoah had some boils and noone could diagnose it

Cuz the Jewish doctors LEFT and now we laugh and eat CHAROSET

They had to flee the land with just the matzo on their backs

Bitch, you know those were my ancestors, WE ALWAYS CARRY SNACKS

It was one long-ass journey, through the desert they were roamin’

And as we read about it someone hides the afikomen

And the kids all run to find it, hopin’ they will be the winner

Leave it to us Jews to MAKE SOME MONEY DURING DINNER

And the Jews escaped to freedom and were filled with such elation

So we celebrate with matzo and a week of constipation

And we laugh and eat and every year the brisket gets much chewier

So it kinda is like other nights, but better, and much Jewier

So no matter what you celebrate, please enjoy your day-ach

And if you see a Jew, you wish that bitch a CHAG SAMEACH.

word.