and for providing me an outlet, always.

I am going to fashion hubby a beard of feathers so that he can pretend to be Turkey Claus and pass out gizzards.
Thanksgiving, Happy Thanksgiving to all. Preemptive, obviously, I'm fuckin' 'merikan, you're lucky I don't rain down sulfur bombs or bibles on your unsuspecting ass.

They had Christmas decorations up before Halloween ended this year, which made me want to puke up half eaten Laffy Taffy. Thanksgiving needs some more umph so it can get enough bounce off the ropes to clothesline Halloween and drop kick-Christmas back into their perspective corners. I love Thanksgiving. I love giving thanks. I have so much to give thanks for, starting with "today I woke up" and ending with "tonight, I have a bed to sleep in" and one day, ONE DAY, I am going to be thankful that little Cherub Jesus Claus is over shadowed by the mystical Unicorn celebration of Love and Light between Native Americans and those who would come to slaughter and eventually confine them (having publicly announced heartfelt blah blah blah erect a statue and have a moment of silence remorse for taking 99% of their land and committing genocide in the name of something entirely retarded like fear of turkeys, I am sure).
Pass the yams, please and thank you.

This year I am excited to celebrate with both my dysfunctional and new extended family together AT THE SAME TIME. I used to fear my personal delusion inventors leaking crazy onto others but now that I am in my thirties, I find times like these amusing and much anticipated. I almost hope my step father gets drunk and starts pontificating on the role of high fructose corn syrup in plate tectonics. Someone at some point will cry and someone (not naming names) will laugh hysterically as a result. A mouth will drop. Something will break, will included. It's like Insanity Bingo (get your cards, kiddies).
Thank you family, for making life so goddamn interesting.

We are traveling later that evening for to stay in an undisclosed location stocked with beer and unmentionables (imported Peruvian beavers). Which means basically my house is free to pillage and loot if you so dare to take on the hoard and laundry pile. Please don't steal my panties, especially the ruffly black and pink ones.
Thank you brother in law, for taking me away like Calgon should have if the plumbing was worth anything and I could actually take a bona fide scalding hot bath to wash these sins away.

The rest of the soon to be blurry days off will be filled with food, reading, bleach, laughter, sex and slack the likes of no decent human on earth should ever plan for.
Thank you Bourbon, for sponsoring my life long sobriety.

Seven other things I say thanks for today.
1. Dinosaurs having roamed the earth.
2. Rocky and Bullwinkle.
3. You.
4. There are no cracks in the sidewalk in front of my house.
5. Knowledge that bottled water indeed has an expiration date.
6. Impending hopscotch tournaments.
7. Seven.

All my love to the Universe, yours, theirs, and ours.

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