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Not every holiday involves eating a turkey, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea.
they’ll be back, they’ve just got other stuff they hafta do right now so i’m here and it’s you and me: merry christmas, scrine.
Grateful to have one less, yes I am.
Juan staggered out of bed at 2am, rinsed the brine off the huge turkey resting in the cooler and fired up the smoker knowing this beautiful bird would need to cook at least 13 hours.
I just know that by the time I’m ready to start my Xmas shopping in earnest, it’ll be too late to order by mail, and all the good geegaws and doohickeys will be gone from the stores.
I’ve had nothing but good luck since I was shat upon by a bird on Chinese New Years Day, so perhaps there is something to the superstition that says it’s good luck.
Boot whistled merrily as she walked along the creek-bed, heading only towards the horizon.
Lucy felt special for just a split second before she glanced at the five girls behind her, all gazing at the identical ‘homemade’ valentines on their desks, all signed, Love Scott.
May your turkey be moist.
There is nothing about Thanksgiving I don’t love.
It might just be that it’s a holiday best spent a thousand miles away from any blood relative.
“I believe the clock above the door of the office is seriously off,” remarked my boss in his too-sober manner, tacitly tipping me off that I am allowed to leave work early today if I choose, and blythely overlooking the certainty that I’d have done so anyway.
Henry wondered if he should knock off early from work for the holiday, but kept putting it off on account of not wanting to shower and get dressed.
“Since you’re gonna let me go home early Wednesday I don’t see any point in coming in for just a few hours tomorrow,” announced my secretary who was last seen at 4:59pm on Tuesday.
That the tryptofan in the turkey kicks in before my brotherinlaw starts talking politics.
At first Sally thought her husband had turned into some sort of planet, and that the pumpkin pies orbiting his stomach had become a cluster of delicious, homemade moons, but when she noticed the orbits of the pies begin to deteriorate, and the way Carl’s mouth began to flex, she knew it was something much worse.
Tammy woke up, not quite sure of her surroundings, but distinctly aware that she had done something very bad the previous night…what little she remembered had to do with tryptophan, and mass quantities of pumpkin and chocolate.
i realize it’s the holiday and people are comatose, but nonetheless i relish the opportunity to relive the heady days of reasonable numbers of scrines, reasonably writ and reasoned; is it december yet?
What day does national murder your boss day fall on this year?
Rufus thought that the glut of fireworks stands was an abomination and that something had to be done, and my friend Schuster said he couldn’t agree more, adding that there was just absolutely no use in selling explosives that couldn’t knock the lock of a bank safe.
Once again, Patsy offered to host the family for this year’s Thanksgiving Day feast, and once again was turned down because she does not own an oven.
A blood soaked abattoir filled with zombie strippers battling gay vampires for the rights to the peloti rules as part of their bioterrorist plan to unleash a highly virulent form of whooping cough on the world.
Having endured 44 Christmases, you’d think people would understand my deep desire to take the next one off.
“Now listen, I don’t like this any better than you do, but it’s our patriotic duty to blow your ears off!”
They do, but it’s July fifth over there.
Glowstick bracelets and some sparklers combine to form the perfect Independence Day props for the 6 and under crowd.
Nothing says “holidays” like watching the apartment super fixing the surveillance camera.
Easter was so full of food that Beth usually took a two week vacation to fit it all in.
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