Thanksgiving Story


A poem for your pre-holiday non-holiday hours of baking pre-day of eating alone, in case it's not just me helping my six year old learn about honest history, revisionist history, and why the former is as important as understanding how the latter came to be.

This from a kid who was pissed to learn Snoopy had it all wrong. 

Wishing you a week of survival, a good bite of food, a completed project, and as little #fucknews as possible.




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