Happy Thanksgiving, Betty!

Oh boy, am I dreading tomorrow.  I can’t control myself when I get near turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing and gravy.

Cranberry sauce, however, not so much.

I heard he pardoned a bunch of turkeys.

Happy Turkey Day to you, Kevin, and the whole Rumproast crew!

Tomorrow we watch the MacyDay Parade. What? Every NY kid calls it the MacyDay Parade…I used to think babies came from Macy’s, from a big white deli case where they were swaddled like trussed turkeys and the doctors stood behind the case in aprons. So I conflated doctors with butchers long before entering the decrepitude that would merit such thinking. But Macy’s->babies->turkeys->Happy Thanksgiving! It all ties in somehow, like a Berg lawsuit!

Reminder: 20 days till the Dec 16 deadline on that NY subsidized housing deal I’ve talked about. Click on my name to view the details, and spread the information around like a socialist spreading wealth. Enjoy the day all!

Btw, just went on thisand am STUFFED

Chocolate nirvana! The daughter and I went to the Apple store at the mall to pick up her mini mac which was being repaired and the big chocolate shop was pushing free truffles to get people to come in (real sign of the times when, during holiday season, you have to entice people into a chocolate shop!).  They also had outposts set up at various spots along the mall.  We managed to find several reasons to backtrack and walk past the shop again and be lured in for another truffle!  Happy Turkey Day everyone!

Betty—I have no family or friends, only a creepy neighbor who sits motionless in his house and never speaks because—as his visiting nurse told me—his doctors believe that he is the “Spirit of Samhain” who is waiting waiting waiting for the proper moment to “act out” some terrible nastiness that apparently happened in that house when he was a child. He has an enormous collection of kitchen knives, but has never even picked at the food I take over to him on the holidays.

In any event, this year is even worse. I tried “brining” the turkey for a change, but I guess I’m not doing it right. I’ve had the bird sitting in a bucket of salt water for six days, and it’s not even warm yet, let alone cooked through. Not
to mention that it smells like feet.

I’ll probably just go get a salad at Arby’s, and rent “Carnival of Souls.” It feels like that kind of day.

My best to all the ‘Roasters. I’ll see you on the other side of the jollity and warmth.