Growing old is never a ball of fun, but when you live long enough to retire having survived a century that included a Great Depression, two World Wars, born in an era of horse drawn transportation and steam powered trains to witness men land on the moon, to have your local utility turn you into a popsicle must be the final indignity. Cheers!
How many friends you have may be controlled by your genes. And there's a genetic tendency to introduce friends to each other! Happy times. Next thing you know they'll try and tell me my taste in beer is controlled by my genes, but that's just crazy talk.
And Tenacious D everyone! Just 'cause this isn't the greatest OT post in the world, it's just a tribute. My keyboard ate that other one.
Tender Crisp Bacon Cheddar Ranch! Bacon porn for all the bacon lovers out there.
If you don't know the glory of Patton Oswalt, familiarize yourself! Patton goes to Black Angus (every time you eat a steak, a hippies hacky sack goes in the sewer)!