sharpestscalpel

Yesterday was goddamn Thanksgiving. I always fucking forget about it with the whole fucking stardate thing instead of regular calendars. Goddamn fucking 'Fleet messing up a perfectly adequate method of keeping shitting track of the time of year.

Any goddamn way.

Fucking Thanksgiving.

Replicated turkey is bullshit so I don't fucking eat it. But I had a little something left over from the last away mission that I cooked up over a flame in the lab. BBQ. Nothing fucking like it even if it ain't goddamn fucking traditional.

Mama always did make us count our fucking blessings. So I guess this year I'm goddamn thankful for the following shit-sucking items:

Fucking space, man
The parathyroid glands
These shit-kicking boots what got me out of fucking trouble at that one base
The old family place back in Georgia
The amygdala
Pointy ears
The fucking ship learning a new goddamn song because the other one was getting fucking old
Lube
Hot sauce and scrambled eggs
Romulan porn
The fucking surrealists
Post-goddamn-modernism
Edith Quimby, PhD
Franz Stangl
Crepes
Maker's Mark
Jazz from the old-Earth 1920s

I could fucking go on but this kind of sappy bullshit is making me want to puke.