Conjoined remembrances of constant personal failures with a heavy gravy of bitter self-loathing.
Every Adam Sandler nightmare episode without the funny redemption, although some boobies are usually involved (hey, your cousin's friend was a little--well, in hindsight, very little-- hot after all that Beaujolais) so that helps.
Turkey, dressing, and crapberry sauce.
With enough leftovers for a full year.
Minimalizing to barebones this year, personally.