Happy Turkey Day to all my fellow Americans, and Happy.... uh, Thursday to you Brit-type people.
Sorry to fuck off like that, but I was entertaining an ambassage from Migrainia, and am still on the antibiotics for the stupid sinuses, besides. I am doing slightly better now, and thanks for all your well-wishes. I'll have a lot to catch up on from everyone's blogs, I'm sure.
I have cooked a turkey, I have eaten part of said turkey, and now I am drinking a huge, quadruple-size Scotch and 7-Up, a veritable Big Gulp of booze. This is to avoid the stripping, cleaning, and packing away of the previously mentioned turkey. Fuck self-cleaning ovens; when someone genetically engineers a self-cleaning turkey, then I will be impressed.
I am rather tipsy, which is nice, and my arms have just started feeling rubbery, which means it must be time for a refill soon, to achieve the full desired effect of holiday drunkenness. The kids are in bed, I have commandeered the computer from the Spouse Sparrow, and semi-drunken posting will now commence. Wait, it already has commenced. Someone forgot to cue the music, dammit.
Ah, and there's the closing credits. I'm off to drink some more, trawl your blogs, and finally put away the leftovers before Kav starts worrying about food poisoning. Don't worry, Kav, we didn't have any rice.