It’s Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving. We. We. We. So Excited (and a 10 step guide to a YouTube hit)

It’s not really Thanksgiving. Is it? I hope Patrice Wilson, the man who produced both this video, and Rebecca Black’s Friday (and appeared in both), is happy.

It seems he is. He made this “official sequel” to Friday.

It seems he’s as equally happy to inflict bad song writing on himself as he is on his clients. That’s something.

But here’s how to write one of his hits in 10 steps…

  1. Start with a visual or spoken queue that this particular day is important and has started. A calendar, or an alarm clock.
  2. Say something about what you’re doing, or will do on this day. The more descriptive and mundane the better.
  3. Talk about other days that are like this day, that aren’t this day, that have come before it.
  4. Talk more about what you’re doing on this day.
  5. Chorus about how excited you are about this day because it means something important. Put the words “we we we” and for bonus marks, spell something out.
  6. Have an African American, preferably your producer, do a little rap. For street cred.
  7. You do a little rap. For street cred. But don’t worry about rhyming. Or find two words that rhyme and use them over and over again.
  8. Chorus again.
  9. More about this day and how you wish it wouldn’t end.
  10. Reflection on the fact that it did indeed end. But reflect that you feel changed by the day.

Comments

Daniel Saunders says:

Thanks for sharing this. No. Seriously.

He is the Rivers Cuomo of the Australian Idol generation.

Cosmo says:

Welp, I learnt that Thanksgiving day is actually on the 22nd (thanks to youtube comments). Not the 28th as the video showed.

Mick says:

I never thought I’d say this, but… I liked ‘Friday’ better.

Here are three things that really bothered me about that song:
– Hateful, grateful, table. Not a good ‘rhyming’ trio.
– Using a turkey drumstick as a microphone. Sigh.
– WHY IS A TWELVE-YEAR-OLD LEFT UNSUPERVISED TO HOST A THANKSGIVING DINNER?! She uses the kitchen a whole lot, which seems unsafe. She lets a horde of other twelve-year-olds in (who have also cooked, and are also allowed to go hang out in a house without adult supervision). And the only adult who shows up is a grown man in a turky outfit. There’s something either grossly negligent or grossly sinister going on here.