Thanksgiving what? You'd better put that down... I don't see that fitting into the meal plan...

So yeah... it's American Thanksgiving... Must be nice for all those people, unlike myself, that don't earn a paycheck being as unattainably beautiful as I. When you're this attractive, Thanksgiving turns into a minefield, the table wrought with goods you'd rather do nothing but indulge in. But we cannot, for we have to continue the full blown assault on your self-image and your complete inability to say no. My secret? Cocaine. Your secret? Fear. So go on, eat your Turkey and yams... I'll be in the bathroom figuring out how to do a rail off the stand-alone sink. Remember though, I'm leaving without ten pounds of stuffing and you're leaving with that plus five pounds of stress-related guilt. Goddammit. I know, you're jealous. I also offer classes.

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