Pass the Sauce

I had an epiphany after a phone conversation with my monster mom yesterday. I’ve decided that my best bet for surviving this Thanksgiving is to become a drunkorexic for a day. Fuck the comfort food. I’m going straight for the sauce. And lots of it.

The way I see it, it’ll be kind of a win-win-win situation for me. Not only will I be able to partake of second, third and twelfth helpings, I’ll also be happily oblivious and perhaps, if I’m lucky, I’ll puke up all the calories.