Happy Thanksgiving from Gerty and Darklady

Gerty and her familiar. Gerty is my Sarcastic pot smoking witch i made. That every one loves!

Happy Thanksgiving, my wicked ones.

Remember… I once tried gratitude without a sarcastic edge.

Tragic mistake. The air tasted like optimism and my familiar nearly fainted.

Feast.

Plot.

Judge the turkey dry rub recipes like you invented spice itself.

Even if you don’t eat meat, admire it dramatically — just not enough that it thinks you want conversation.

Financial bad luck? Darling, that’s not a curse… that’s networking with consequences.

The shadows don’t pay bills but they sure as hell inspire better budgeting than most mortals manage awake.

If your right palm is itching more than the left, congratulations — money is choosing a side. It clearly respects your dominant hand.

To everyone who stumbled, fumbled, or crashed head-first into disappointment this year — you still showed up, still sharpened your craft, still stirred the pot. Literally or emotionally, it counts.

Now go eat, lavishly or symbolically, and glare at the world like it owes you interest.

Happy Thanksgiving, my wicked ones.

Gerty sends her love — in permanent black ink, of course.

Darklady and Gerty