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It seems like every Thanksgiving, I participate in the same routine: stuff myself with appetizers and hors d’oeuvres, only to leave myself without an appetite by the time the main event rolls around.

Every time it happens, I remind myself to be smarter the next year. And, sure enough, when ‘next year’ rolls around I find myself doing the same thing.

Next year, I’ll just cut out the middle man and declare a 24-hour moratorium on appetizers and hors d’oeuvres. Cut out the foreplay and get right into the eatin’.

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