Thanksgiving Follow-up

Nothing on Thanksgiving mattered to me more than my little cousin, age 8, wiggling her tiny self between me and the couch I was sprawled out on, throwing her scrawny arm around my torso, and falling asleep. You couldn't pay me to move until she woke up.

And I ABSOLUTELY KILLED D. Bro in fooseball!

I'm fighting a cold right now, and I'm damn near illiterate, but if you'd like to see my latest project, go here. A picture is worth a thousand words, right?