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I’m hurt, honestly.

I thought we were simpatico.

I mean, this is the biggest, most dynamic community of liberals, like, anywhere on the planet — and not a peep.

And I’m really good at this kind of thing, believe me. I’ve ruined numerous Thanksgiving meals. Just ask my family. For starters, I’m an agnostic vegan and they’re all Republicans, so you figure it out.

Now I’m walking into a firefight tomorrow unarmed — with nothing to fall back on but a Tofurky roast and binders full of Donald Trump scandals. 

I mean, the secret War on Thanksgiving has even gotten back to Trump — and in case you hadn’t noticed, he’s not exactly one of us. So what gives?

Strangely enough, I actually wrote about the brewing (and now percolating, apparently) War on Thanksgiving a few weeks ago, but I thought it was a joke. (It was covered by Fox & Friends, after all.) But now the actual president of the United States has weighed in. So we have to listen, because what kind of world leader would make outlandish, easily checked claims if they weren’t 100 percent true? It’s not like he’s got a show on InfoWars or something. He’s the president, FFS.

And get this — he even said we’re trying to change the name of Thanksgiving:

“As we gather for Thanksgiving, you know, some people want to change the name Thanksgiving. They don’t want to use the term Thanksgiving. … People have different ideas why it shouldn’t be called Thanksgiving, but everybody in this room, I know, loves the name Thanksgiving. And we’re not changing.”

To be honest, I don’t quite understand this. If we’re waging an all-out assault on Thanksgiving and want to bomb it back into the 16th century, wouldn’t we just rename it “Thursday”? 

Then again, what do I know? I’m a liberal. I’ve got six pallets of unsold Paul Tsongas for President swag still sitting in a storage unit in Green Bay. (I’m holding out hope that someone else named Paul Tsongas will run one day, but no such luck yet.)

By the way, I’ve got a built-in advantage. While everyone else is half-comatose from tryptophan and lard-crust pies, I can sneak around undetected like Rudy Giuliani in Ukraine. They’ll never know what hit them. Oh, how I love the smell of plant-based “meat” in the morning!

So come on, guys. Read me in. Give me a mission. Put these alabaster, baby-soft liberal hands to work.

If there’s a real, actual War on Thanksgiving going on, I’ll be your Gen. George S. Patton. “Old Blood and Guts.” (Or, you know, the Beyond Meat version of that.)

Does Trump make you want to delete your brain? Of course he does! But don’t do it until you’ve read Dear Fcking Lunatic: 101 Obscenely Rude Letters to Donald Trump and its breathlessly awaited sequel Dear Fcking Moron: 101 More Letters to Donald Trump by Aldous J. Pennyfarthing. Reviewers have called these books “hysterically funny,” “cathartic,” and “laugh-out-loud” diversions from our temporary hell on Earth. Don’t delay. Click those links, yo!