Chipotle Chicken and Apple Pizza… and Christmas

I’m a crazy Christmas whore. At least that’s what you might label me if you were a mean person. And even if you did, I’d be okay with that. I’m no stranger to being called names, you know. In fact, regularly in elementary school, mean kids would scratch out the R’s in both my first and last names on my lunch bag, then turn the “N” into a “K,” transforming me from Gary Green into “Gay Geek.”

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