Your Move, Rachael Ray

See, Jeff, this is why you’re still sitting at the kids table at 35.

Okay, before anyone says anything, let’s just calm down and think about all the things we’re thankful for this year, shall we? I’ll go first.

I’m thankful for the love of two wonderful parents who have done the best they could to raise me right. You failed, obviously, but you tried and that’s what matters.

I’m thankful for the caring of my siblings who never once let me forget that I’m leeching off of Mom and Dad by refusing to find a real job and living rent free in their basement. I know it must suck to watch me float through life on our parent’s good graces. I know this because you never let me forget it. Bobby? Tara? I’m looking at you guys.

And most of all, I’m thankful for you, Uncle Gary. Had it not been for you and that bottle of Wild Turkey last night, I may have spent some of Dad’s hard-earned money on an actual pie. Even though I woke up with an incredible hangover, I powered through and made do with the pumpkin we didn’t carve last month.

But you know what I’d really be thankful for, right now? Some aspirin. Could someone maybe go grab some from the bathroom for me? Thanks.

Wear this shirt: when the heat in the kitchen is so unbearable you have to leave.

Don’t wear this shirt: if last Halloween’s jack-o-lantern is still rotting on your front porch.

This shirt tells the world: “It’s as easy as a baked dish of fruit or sometimes meat and vegetables in a pastry shell or base!”

We call this color: Brown Flaky Crust

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