In the gaze of the other

"My mistress' eyes are nothing…"

Thank You

2 Comments

credit: blogs.psychcentral.com

Like writing, gratitude is a daily practice that does indeed deserve the day’s recognition and honoring. On this day of thanks, I express my gratitude to all who have contributed to, collaborated on and visited this blog. Peace.

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2 thoughts on “Thank You

  1. Thank you, Gaze. Your posts have been inspirational. Happy Thanksgiving to you and all that you love and who love you.

    May I use your blog to share my Thanksgiving wishes as well?

    Thank you,
    MPM

    HAPPY THANKSGIVING to all my friends and fu… – I mean, family – on this most special holiday of the year. It’s not every day we get to dress up like Indians and Pilgrims. (Except for Halloween of course; and your child’s school play in kindergarten; and that hotel in Vegas. Remember? When the police came in you thought they were strippers and you unzipped his uniform pants and … never mind.) So on this one day of the year when the entire family gathers together to celebra…te their love for each other (even the stupid ones), and Uncle Harold sits at the table with his fly open, and Aunt Connie can’t remember the names of her own kids let alone all the rug rat cousins, and Grandpa gets the wishbone stuck in his throat and has to be saved by Cousin Vinnie performing the (ahem) “hind lick” manoeuver, and the baby spits up on the mashed potatoes, and Jimmy feeds corn to the dog, and the pumpkin pie begins to run like some alien diarrhea, and Sara and Jane, both drunk, renew their fight from 30 years ago in high school when Jane stole Vinnie away from Sara by giving him a BJ in the gym, and they start yelling and screaming at each other and can’t be separated and throw wine at each other and then the glasses break on the linoleum floor and Carl, the cousin with epilepsy who hasn’t taken his meds, begins to have a seizure and falls on the glass and opens every single goddamn major artery in his friggin’ body and has to be rushed to the emergency room, and the cat drinks the spilled wine and then takes the foulest smelling dump on the carpet between the kitchen and dining room, and Tommy throws his yams into the fishbowl, and the neighbor begins to complain because your ‘son-of-a-bitching relatives’ have taken up every goddamn parking spot in the cul-de-sac and threatens to call a tow truck because, even though Thanksgiving falls on a Thursday and city workers are off so the No Parking on Thursdays for Street Sweeping signs don’t mean shit today, he wants to make you pay for putting your fence up 3 inches onto his property, and their dog sneaks into your house because you’re standing on your porch with the door open while you’re yelling at him and starts a fight with your dog, and the drunk cat howls in fear and jumps on the table to get away but stops at the turkey and begins chomping away like some starving Asian and scratches everyone who tries to pick him up, and … You know what … screw this crap. I’m going to get drunk at Hooters while watching the games.

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