Please, do not call me on Thanksgiving.

What is wrong with people? They ask me how I'm doing today.



Well, if you take into account that I'm locked away in a corporate cell completely devoid of any holiday cheer, not that I really wanted some, but in this short brutal life, why not grab any chance I have to celebrate?

Only, I don't get to.
Maybe I should wear something scary tomorrow. Or waltz in half-drunk, hopped up on something frantic.

"Hello it's me, I'm not at home. If you'd like to reach me, leave me alone."