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Police Station


Sorry about yesterday.

I was supposed to tell you how our (me and the two whiners; Joe and Bob) Thanksgiving day went.

So here is what happened.

Of course the turkey was burned – – – not to a crisp but rather crunchy and the black stuff hung onto our fingers. Bob was insisting that we use a knife and fork. Holy cow, what a sissy he turned out to be. So Joe and I just ripped off a drumstick or a wing – – – or whatever we wanted. The charred greasy stuff washed off our fingers with no trouble at all.

Bob, after a few too many Southern Comfort Manhattans, managed to stab himself in the hand while he was trying to slice off some white meat. (Joe and I told him not to be screwing around with the fork and the knife – – – but…

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