I know maybe you didn't think you needed a Thanksgiving drinking game, but I'm here to tell you that you definitely do. Hear me out: Another 21st-century Thanksgiving approaches, and that means a few things. Of course, it means the things Thanksgiving has always meant — family and food, complete with the fond reunions, holiday bonding, and scattered awkward interactions that have long been synonymous with Thanksgiving — but it now also means that when those awkward moments roll around and your eyes dive to your lap to avoid the situation by looking at your cell phone, you will see how your entire social network is spending their holiday as well. Thank you, social media, for giving me something to do while I "return an important work email" that just can't wait until my uncle tells me how he "has a lot of Mexican friends, but Trump kinda has a point about the border." What a time to be alive.

That said, some people hate Facebook, and I can understand why. It is prone to dramatic outbursts and it's easy to get caught up in other people's drama, even unintentionally. When it's not drama, it's often inane or just reveals that you fundamentally disagree with every political belief held by half of your friends and family. I am not one of those people. In fact, I love Facebook, which I feel is sort of a lame thing to say after, like, 2010, but I'm not going to let that stop me. Because I do! I like keeping in touch, I like people sharing articles and funny memes and stuff (not the Minions memes, though; calm down with the goddamn Minions), and, yes, I like laughing at other people when they take Facebook way too seriously. But here's the thing: On Thanksgiving, I don't like Facebook. Because it becomes homogeneous, treacly, and completely uninteresting. It's as though we ~as a society~ have jointly agreed to celebrate on social media in about seven, pre-approved ways.

Since you're going to undoubtedly be seeing all of these Facebook statuses whenever you look at your news feed on Thanksgiving, and since prolonged family time plus post-dinner, couch-bound hours of nursing a sluggish bout of Thanksgivingitis means you're going to be looking at your social media feeds a lot, we might as well make this interesting:

Boozy Thanksgiving Facebook Bingo

The rules aren't fancy, folks: Whenever you see one of the following social media posts over the course of the day, immediately finish whatever drink is in your hand and go pour yourself another.

("But what if it's too early on Thanksgiving and I haven't started drinking yet?" you might ask. To that, I say, "I don't understand what you mean by "too early" and now you're not invited to play. Go sit at the kids' table.")