OK, here is attempt # 2. I tried the blogging thing and failed miserably, losing track of it after only three posts. But things have changed. I've changed. I'm wearing clean underwear.
So Thanksgiving has come and gone, and I feel like I ate a cannonball. Thursday was awesome, spent at a friend's family's house. His parents are kind enough to feed all his friends who are from out of town, or who hate their families. Me, I'm a little bit of column A, a little bit of column B. The food was delish.
Friday was... suspect (see above). A different friend decided to deep fry a turkey. Which sounded intriguing, despite the fact that he lives in an apartment in Central Sq. in Cambridge with no deck or yard or anywhere outdoors to perform said feat of fry-o-lating. So we went and did it in the parking lot.
Down the street.
The lot where I park my car for work. Yes, it's a private lot. Yes, what we were doing was perhaps not, oh, shall we say, entirely legal. I mean, it's not like we were raping cub scouts out there, but still. It got particularly touch and go when we had to rig up a ladder as a derrick to lower the turkey into the vat of boiling oil. But the mission was accomplished quite successfully.
And that fucker was the best turkey I'd ever eaten, no lie.
All right, I'll be back in another five months.
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