11/20/2012 01:20 pm ET Updated Jan 20, 2013

Thanksgiving "Comedy" With My Uncle Barry

Every fourth Thursday of November my family, like most families, gets together to give thanks and eat an amazing meal. But, fortunately and unfortunately for you all, no one else has my Uncle Barry there to give his pre-dinner Thanksgiving "comedy" routine. But now that I have this platform I can bring that joy to all of you. Without further ado, I present the official transcript of Barry's 2011 performance:

Hey everyone, it's great to be here tonight.

[smattering of applause]

If you don't know me -- which would be really weird -- I'm Barry Henderson, everyone's favorite uncle, favorite brother and third favorite son womp womp.

Around this time of year I don't go by my real name, Uncle B, but by my Christian name, Cranbarry.

[Taps the mic] Is this thing on?

Ladies and gentlemen, let's get ready to ruuuuuuummmmble! Too late, you're already there -- I can hear your stomachs from all the way over here on Plymouth Rock.

Hello-ello-llo-lo-o. Laugh if you can hear me!

[Outer space-like silence]

Now let's cut to the chase and talk about my favorite Thanksgiving tradition -- crotch. Sorry, I know I said I was going to try to keep this PG-13?. How about R? I just won't go NC-17, deal? Haha I had my fingers crossed!

[Everyone shifts their weight uncomfortably]

I'll hurry up because I know that you guys are waiting to eat! But first, here's one of my favorite T-day jokes:

Hungary? Don't be, Turkey is right there! Literally.

[Groans from the room]

Study an atlas!

You know what I've been thinking a lot about lately? That the pilgrims were doomed to lead pretty rough lives from the get go. I mean, just look at their name, pilGRIMs.

[A crumpled napkin is thrown on stage]

Whoooaaaaa that's a bad joke. Rewrite alert. First time I've told that one in public!

Hashtag sheesh.

But bear with me amigos. We've got another 400 words to get through. Pretty much the same amount of words that I'll be saying all night to my wife. Zing!

More pumpkin lager please!

[On cue, his son fills up Barry's glass]

And as long as we're talking about turkeys... oh, we weren't? I could have sworn we were talking about MItt Romney and Paul Ryan! No, but seriously, I heard Obama finally pardoned those turkeys - for trying to get in the way of another four years!

[A smattering of boos from the adult table]

You guys know I'm a liberal through-and-through. But you may not know that around this time of year I always turn into a conservative -- a peCAN-pie-servative.

Pie me a river, FOX News!

[A pin drops]

No more politics, I promise. Or do I wink wink nudge nudge?

We're almost there, guys. After unbuttoning my pants -- not like that! -- and taking the obligatory post-turkey snooze, I always like to do one thing: the dishes. Just kidding! That's what my wife Sharron likes to do. Love you, honey!

[Sharron responds unintelligibly]

No, I like to turn on the boob tube and watch a little pigskin. It's a tradition around here, and if you don't like it, you can just suck my giblet!

[Lots of uncomfortable eyes dart around the room]

Hey-o! A giblet is that little thing on a turkey -- no, not that thing you perv. I told you I'd keep it clean!

We're in the homestretch now -- just like I'll be stretching my belt at home after chowing down on some breast and thigh... of some turkey for a change!

[Auditory gasps]

Sheesh, I didn't know everyone here had the sensibilities of actual pilgrims!

So my kids -- aka the pumpKINs -- know that I normally go get my annual physical the day after Thanksgiving. I know it's weird, but I just love seeing the look on my doctor's face when he asks for my blood type and I say "gravy" -- and he knows I'm not lying!

[A few laughs, probably sympathetic]

Yeehaw! I'm on a roll now -- a crescent roll!

Now I have one last thing before we all chow down. When I'm comatose later from all the tryptophan I have one rule that I need you to follow: DNR.

Most times that means Do Not Resuscitate, but on my fave day it's a bit different. It stands for Do Not Rhubarb pie me! Gross!

Cherry pie! Say it with me! Cherry pie! Cherry pie!

[Room actually chants along with him for four beats]

Okay, we did it, we made it through. Now it's just time for Grace... Under Fire. Love that show!

I give thanks for Brett Butler!

[A few yells of "me, too!" echo around the room]

But in all seriousness thanks for joining us tonight -- I promise I won't eat all the mashed potatoes. But I may do the twist!

Eat up!

[Standing ovation, like every year]