I'm in for a Thanksgiving nightmare

Dear Doctor BS,

Let me start off by saying that I am not a heavy drinker. But on Halloween I was out with some friends, and the costumes were funny (I was a zombie clown - lots of makeup), the party was crowded, and the drinks were flowing. In short, I was soon a hammered zombie clown. So hammered that when my friend "Julia" (not her real name) asked me to come to Thanksgiving at her house, I said yes. What's the problem? Julia is the worst cook in the universe, and she's been taking cooking classes at the community college. Basically the problem is that I'm going to have to eat her food, and I'm scared.

PE

Dear PE,

Thanksgiving is a magical holiday of togetherness and gluttony. We gather with family and friends to give thanks and then eat a week's worth of calories in one sitting, often with an additional helping or two later, after watching some football and loosening the belt and sometimes unbuttoning the top button of the pants.

The simple solution to your problem is just to cancel. I have the feeling that you won't do so because despite her cooking you seem to want to keep Julia as a friend. There might be an excuse that she would accept. Food poisoning, for example, because no one wants the projectile vomiting guy at the table when they're using the good china. Of course, deliberately getting food poisoning to avoid bad food might not be what you're after either.

You could also take your chances and show up in hopes that she's gone with a potluck style dinner, making sure to eat the dishes brought by the more competent cooks.

But in the end, I think you need to get yourself out of this problem the same way you got in: alcohol. You said you're not a big drinker, but I'm sure you have an inappropriate uncle in your family who you can use as an example. Booze it up in the morning. Bring a few bottles of wine and/or liquor with you and insist on opening the first one the second you step in the door. Then commandeer the lazyboy and proceed to drink yourself into a stupor in front of the TV. By the time dinner is served they might not even want you at the table. If you're even still conscious.

Admit it, you dressed up as a zombie clown for a reason. Now let that inner zombie clown come out with your good friend alcohol.

Doctor BS