Thanksgiving comes every year and leaves us groggy, with unfastened belts, passed out in front of the television, watching the Lions lose.

But what it leaves in its wake is several weeks worth of leftover turkey sandwiches. Or in some cases, leftover turducken sandwiches.

For the uninitiated, a turducken is a de-boned chicken stuffed into a de-boned duck, stuffed into a de-boned turkey.

Food pioneers have constructed the turbaconducken, a turducken wrapped in bacon, and the turbaconduckenriblets, which is a turbaconducken with a beef riblet core.

Thanksgiving is an American tradition, and what’s more American than stuffing meat with meat? Besides maybe an explosion. A meat-based explosion.

Now you can take the Matroyshka doll of fatty foods and ensconce it in a setting of bread and ranch dressing.

They say that suicides increase significantly during the holidays. I’m inclined to agree, although I’m sure a good portion of those are accidental, sandwich-related suicides.