Sunday, November 21, 2010

Thanks For The Dysentery

So as everybody but me knows (I am seriously the last to know anything), Thursday is Thanksgiving. My family has decided to have everybody bring a dish, that way we can all share the workload and/or all get food poisoning. Now my parents, my sisters and my brother (ok, more specifically his wife) are good cooks. My job, as it was described to me in my message that would self-destruct in 5 seconds once I chose whether or not to accept the mission, was to bring something not made by my hands.

Now they probably didn't mean biscuits made by God or Gordon Ramsay or the Swedish Chef, but they sure as hell know they don't want to eat anything I attempt to concoct. Simply put, I cannot cook. Not even Top Ramen. And I don't want to go to Safeway and have to pull a 'Is-Wayne-Brady-Gonna-To-Have-Smack-A-Bitch' to some poor woman over a can of generic cranberries. So what am I going to bring? I have but one idea;
Fritos. Fuck yeah!

The only thing that I still believe in is you, if you only knew

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