11/24/2017

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Dear diary,

We're gonna have ta' have leftovers for days. I don't know how I'll survive, I already hate everything. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are Thanksgiving, even dessert is Thanksgiving. How has my life come to this, and I thought fightin' with Bucky was the lowest point in my life.

We shoulda' learned our lessons last year, we had to call in Thor last time. Tony made so much apple pie it could cure world hunger. I swear, Bruce wrote an essay on it, AN ENTIRE FRICKIN' ESSAY. But 'm glad we didn't get food poisoning this year, finally someone had some common sense to force Tony to wash his hands.

I think Bucky is dead, he hasn't moved for five hours. He looks so cute, all wrapped up in a blanket cocoon on the bed. Here, I'll get a close up on his face.

 Here, I'll get a close up on his face

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He looks so peaceful, so serene. And he's gotten a little bit more chubby, but don't tell anyone. Never, ever.

Bye diary, stay true!





















P.S.

NEVER EVER, EVER NEVER.

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