Like plenty of Americans, over the weekend I overate. Now, I am paying dearly. The problem isn’t just with the overeating, it is the leftovers. The constant grazing. The ohmigodonemorecookiewon’thurt and the following ripping of the seams on one’s pants.

But I am not going to lie. I cook a damn good turkey. I mean, look at that color:

Look at that color! Somebody get me a teevee show, stat!

The secret is dumping in a bottle of wine and three sticks of butter for basting. As for the cranberry? Well, unless it has tin can rings, I don’t care. You can take your elitist homemade cranberry and sit in a corner and eat it. I, on the other hand, will enjoy my canned cranberry. (Although as you can surmise from the picture, my cranberry is slightly elitist as well, bein’ from Whole Foods and all.)

Anyway, this morning I woke up and felt like I was finally coming out of my turkey coma. My pants are still tight, and I am feeling the need for some detoxification.

Time to break out the blender, kids….and this was my breakfast this morning:

Yes, this does look like monster vomit.

Apparently, I like to pretend in the morning that I am an old lady with no teeth, and therefore I must drink my vegetables.

The killer thing though…my smoothie wasn’t half bad. There is kale, spinach, bokchoy, apples, ginger, and some oj….and that’s it.

Would I replace every meal with it? Hell, no. But this did make me feel all fancy and spa-like. At least until I tried to fit into my pants.

Damn you, delicious leftovers…I shake a drumstick at you!

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