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Tuesday, November 22



1. You're not an American NDN, and you don't live on The Rez, and you don't stare off into a yawning chasm of hopelessness where your country used to be.

2. You're not one of those bodies in the Lower 9th Ward of New Orleans that still haven't been "discovered" or "recovered."

3. You're not someone fleeing Katrina and/or Rita, being turned-away from shelter by racists and paranoiacs and crackers toting guns.

4. You're not a former public-housing resident of Orleans or St. Bernard or Jefferson Parish, left hanging in a trailer city without any future or promise for even returning to your previous low "standard of living."

5. You (ostensibly) have a home and a job and a future. For those who don't, holidays don't mean a fucking thing.

6. You don't live here, at Fucktard Acres, surrounded by lowlifes, convicted child-molesters & other felons (who, supposedly, aren't allowed into subsidized housing), fucktards, morons, loud-mouthed freaks, ignorant assholes who think that they have the RIGHT to shove THEIR cult participation down your fucking throat every day of the fucking WEEK, psychotics who play their TV and stereo at top volume, EVERY FUCKING NIGHT, as soon as you go to bed, and general creepy bastards who lurk around here like the short-bus angels of death.

And no, don't tell me to "reach out" to these freaks --- tried that. Not worth it. All I want is one fucking night of peace & quiet, and nobody can give me that.

What am I "thankful" for? For Fitzmas (if it ever really comes), for my remaining nieces & nephews, for cornbread dressing, for my boyfriend, and for great people online who keep me semi-sane on a regular basis. It just irks the shit out of me that there's still so much wrong with the world and that I haven't fixed it yet.

Enjoy your food orgies, my friends. But never forget those who won't get them.

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