|I fucking hate you all.|
This year, in a strange parallel, on the anniversary of my son's birth and the reception of the largest scar on my body, My Lady Mother (In-Law) had a similar procedure performed. Only, she had her reproductive organs removed. I don't know, I had those weird Maiden-Mother-Crone-Cycle-Of-Life trains of thought that day. Anyhoo, I'm not cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year. Fuck it. I could be a dick and insist on how important family celebrations, like this one, are. Remind her that if I could cook with umpteen staples holding me together, she could manage with a few laparoscopic punctures.
|No laying down on the job!|
But I'm a nicer person that that, and Albertson's has deli and sandwich trays starting at $12.99!
|Maybe not the best picture to put right under that last one.|
Posts are going to be a bit sparse for a while, because, you know, holidays. And, also, no privacy whatsoever. But I'll try to get one good one in before the New Year. I also promise to try to learn proper grammar, syntax, and sentence structure.
I'm lying, of course. I promise nothing but disappointment.