A titmouse with a lesbian haircut.

Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the frat house, not a creature was stirring, not even a titmouse. Why? Because everyone’s at the bars, duh, working on tomorrow’s hangover the proper way.

Last year I had some folks over to my house for Thanksgiving, and we had planned a bloody mary bar and mimosas, along with chicken wings and pizza — just like the Pilgrims and Indians, right? Anyway, we all “accidentally” drank too much the night before, so no bloodys were even concocted. I still have blue cheese-stuffed olives hanging out in my fridge. We did make it to midnight bingo, however.

Happy going-out night. Remember to use Uber, Lyft, a taxi or CityScoot. I doubt you want to spend Turkey Day in jail.

I’m heading to Churchill Downs tomorrow to bet on some ponies and motorboat some mashed potatoes.