The therapist Logan sees every Thursday, except for holidays, tells him that he needs to be more positive. That sure, maybe the past year or so has been all about the world anal raping him without lube, but always look on the bright side of life. Or at least it's a catchy tune. And maybe his therapist doesn't say "anal raping," but it's implied. There in the subtext.
Thanksgiving is on a Thursday. No therapy this week, Logan. But he has all the therapy he needs with a bottle of Jack in his hand.
He's thankful for his bottle of Jack.
He's thankful to still be rich and not living across the street from Weevil. Or worse, in the same building as Veronica Mars.
He's thankful for illegal homeless boxing, because let's face it, those were the days.
He's thankful for Duncan, currently on his knees and sucking cock. The boy gives good head.
He's thankful that Kendall got it. Though he does miss fucking her and sucking those fabulous $4,000 tits.
He's thankful that his father's locked up, while he only has to wear an ankle bracelet. He wonders if the cops will take it off in time for the Inheritance Party in Mexico Dick and Beav are planning.
Logan is thankful for a lot of things. Things he's not going to tell his fucking therapist. Who knows maybe Logan will just wait and sing them from his crucifix.