With that space we do things like fish and swim and Jet Ski and get muddy on things with motors and wheels and tires that crash through the woods. That's our son up there, and right after I snapped the picture his head exploded because he was so happy. I can't think of anything better than being nine years old on a four wheeler or dirt bike with a full tank of gas. Not sex, not great food, not a sandy beach, not nuthin'.
Happiness is a stocked pond.
Weirdness is whatever this is. If I took pictures of all of the crazy stuff like this we've seen over the past few weeks, you'd think I grew up in West Virginia. Not that there's probably much difference, really.