THANKSFUCKINGGIVING
Verily I say to thee, Thanksgiving sucks balls. And not the good kind of balls (which is most kinds—heeey!) but scary, janky, scraggly, scabby yak balls. (Yes, those kinds of balls.) Thanksgiving is the straightest of all the goddamn holidays put together (barring, of course, maybe Veterans Day and definitely Super Bowl Sunday), and it fills me with dread, confusion, creepy uncles, and please! Baby Jeebus! Anything but turkey, turkey, FUCKING FUCKME FUCKINGMORE TURKEY! Gobble gobble gobble! Shit's some kind of Native shaman voodoo revenge curse on the U-S-A! U-S-A, I'm telling you. (O wretched shoe-leathery bird of choking doom! KEEP AWAY FROM ME AND MY PRISTINE MOLARS! So mote it be!) Thanksgiving. What a fucking rip-off!
DINA MARTINA CHRISTMAS
The annual Dina Martina Christmas thing opens tonight. You know, jifts and parads and jift parads and seriously fucked-up carols—delighting and appalling and perplexing in unparalleled yuletide gayness, just like every year since the earth cooled. What the hell do you want from me? Jesus. Calm down. Re-bar, 8 pm, $20 adv/$25 DOS, 21+.
HAM FOR THE HOLIDAYS
Classic Koch-Platt: the com-com-comedy sketches! The wack-wack-wacky characters! The kook-kook-kookiness of it all! All of the verve and camp you've come to demand of this venerable, elder, traditional yearly Christmas gaystravaganza: a homo X-mess tradition as old as dirt—and you know how dirt got so old, baby, right? Exactly. By being delicious. Theatre Off Jackson, 7:30 pm, $23, all ages. 
