Thanksgiving

Here’s a game, called “masturbating or carving a turkey?” Go. Time’s up. Wrong, I wouldn’t do that in the kichen. I thought I came from a fairly intelligent family until they let the vegetarian carve the turkey – talk about a lack of investment in the outcome. I’ll cut it, I’d probably kill the bird, but I’ll be damned if any of that soul-filled shit enters my mouth. Disgusting.

I haven’t been home in a while, and how things have changed. Two of our neighbors, entirely independently of each other, got pet llamas. Confounding, I don’t get it either. Yet somehow I want one now, a pretty one, one to cuddle with on lonely nights. This is Lenny, I named him and gave him a background story. Lenny was the scruffiest llama in the herd, and all the other llamas made fun of him for it, but then it got really really cold, and all the llamas were cold and miserable, but Lenny had so much scruffy fir that he made a blanket and saved the entire herd. I hear llamas spit like camels, but all I felt was love.

I think there should be some sort of system to facilitate a relative swap, some web 2.0 startup needs to pick up on this. My relatives live in NorCal, and I’m sure there is someone out there in NorCal with relatives in the south. So we switch it up – I’ll borrow her family while she visits mine. Everyone wins. Kind of like a timeshare. Craigslist might be the appropriate venue.

God damn I fucking love pumpkin pie.