As we all know, Thanksgiving is right around the corner and boy oh boy are we in for a treat. I have a few friends who told me about some of the characters in their families. Here is a rundown of whom you may be talking to this Thanksgiving.

The Racist:

My buddy’s uncle always seems to think that because I’m half black, I must love chicken. Well he’s right—I frikking love me some chicken hahaha. He constantly tells me about how Barack Obama is the worst thing to happen to the United States and that something should be done about this. Calm down bro, I can’t just shoot him a tweet and fix your problem.

I remember one day we were all setting at the table and he randomly asks me, “Why do you think Stevie Wonder smiled smiles all the time?” “I don’t know,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me.”  “Because he didn’t know he was black,” he responded.

The Muscle Head:

You know the relative that drinks protein shakes 3 times a day and has biceps so big he can’t wipe his butt properly? Yeah, well we all have one of these in our family, and some of us even have an aunt that fits this description. Always yelling out loud as if we don’t know his abnormally huge presence is in the room.

I remember a time when a buddy of ours ripped off his shirt in the middle of the party just because. I mean, who does that? Not only do you look like a super tool, but, thanks to that spray tan and tanning bed sesh, you also look like Carrot Top and The Incredible Hulk had a baby.

The Nosy One:

Ya know that aunt or grandmother that is just all up in the Kool Aid and don’t even know the flava? I fortunately still have my granny around, and even though this lady is so old she has Jesus’s pager number, she still knows a thing or three about getting information. (Or, should I just say, being nosy as hell.) Since when do we have to worry about our grandparents checking up on us on Facebook? She recently asked me how my love life was going, and I told her, “It’s going granny. Let’s stop talking about me, though, and more about you.”

She quickly averted the switch-up I tried to pull, saying, “Well, from the looks of it on Facebook, you’ve been doing some heavy petting with that brunette girl.” Come to find out, my granny added me under a fake profile she created. I knew it was too good to be true having Mariah Carey add me on her personal profile just seemed odd.

The Overachiever:

I love my sister, but as Kanye would say… “That girl cray.” This chick has always been an honor role student, working full time since she was like 16, scholarship recipient, and man oh man does she like to throw it all in your face at the dinner table. She loves to ask me in front of everyone questions like “So Andre, what are you doing for work and school now?”

When I tell her she always says, “Social Media Director? Sooo your telling me that you direct a bunch of people who play around on facebook and twitter?” No matter what you say, your old, dusty relatives who still carry a beeper only understand what she just said. Well, be prepared because this is when everyone else starts digging into you. You could be a punk and just bring up the fact that your sister’s fiancée is 20yrs older than she is hahahhhahaaa

I hope she doesn’t read this.

The Punk Ass Teenager:

This kid thinks he knows it all and has only been around for 16 years. He’s got 5000 friends on Facebook and has a following on Twitter that rivals Ashton Kutcher. The last time you saw this kid he was 5 years old and looked like a cute little boy.  Now he’s 16, wears his sisters Seven jeans, rocks guy liner, and wears so much black you would have mistaken him for a mix between Chris Angel and Justin Bieber. He doesn’t talk much, so that’s a good thing. He calls himself emo, but when you ask him what emo means he says, “I don’t know, like, whatever, just leave me alone.”

I tell it like it is so “You listen here Barbara,” (the name I call him ha-ha) “you need to straighten yourself up because if you keep at what your doing you’re going to end up in prison and trust me, you and that cute little hair dew of yours do not want to go to prison.”

Frank The Tank:

You know this guy… it’s that relative of yours who’s always shmammered  (that’s a mix between shit faced and hammered). Always comes over smelling like Jack Daniels and that pipe tobacco. I have an uncle who comes over with his personal 5th of vodka in his back pocket but insists that he drink up everything in the house before resorting to his own stash.

They love to talk a bunch of trash too, don’t they? Always telling you how our generation is so effed up, and if we don’t clean up our act we’ll all be living out on the streets. “Excuse me Unc, but from the looks and smells of it, I would have sworn you just woke up from a nap on a bus bench.”

The Old Timer:

This old dude was fraternity brothers with Eli Whitney back in the cotton gin days and still dresses like it, and to be quite honest… that smell has stuck with him still, right? He thinks –but  insists he knows—that our generation just sucks and will let you know exactly why. Always shaking the shit out of your hand, it’s like “Grandpa, GRANDPA…. your hurting my hand.” That old hand looks like an old ancient, freckled bear trap. The guy’s old as dirt but you love him for his honesty, and it’s actually funny how you’ve had a conversation with him for an hour and he has called you 10 different war buddy names.

I must have heard the same story three times tonight but let’s face it, you ain’t getting away from this old timer. If you try to get up, he’ll grab you by the back of the neck and trust me, there’s no worse feeling than his old sand paper hands scraping your neck—it feels like an elephant with knuckles in the trunk just bear hugged ya.

So this year, during Thanksgiving, be sure to be thankful for those around you. And if you’re not back home with family like myself, just be thankful that you don’t have to worry about your uncle from Home Alone with the shovel, asking ya questions with breath that smells of eight cans of shark shit.