I was going to write a post titled Ashton Kutcher’s Pancreas, but I really don’t have the wherewithal to go on a rant (especially about Aston Kutcher and his pancreas) – besides, other far more intelligent bloggers than I have already pretty much said what I have to say about it. So I’ll spare us all and tell you about an amusing conversation I had with Oldest Son via IM yesterday afternoon.
Oldest Son (telling me about a friend of his who is a gun collector): I don’t know if I’ll go to his place or your place when the zombie apocalypse happens.
Me: My next door neighbor is armed to the teeth. And he brews his own beer.
Oldest Son: Okay – your house it is, then.
Never underestimate the power of a freezer full of grass-fed beef and a neighbor who microwbrews.
Have a great weekend, y’all.