Our daughter is apparently wondering about our usual habit of rambling discussions about the strangest subjects in the car. In the time it takes us to drive from the grocery store home (about 10 minutes) we will usually have discussed everything from quantum physics to cartoons, devolving into how it relates to beer and using our extra-thick Maine accents. We once used 45 minutes of the time God gave us in trying to figure out what a sign that said, “Fuck, Shave” meant. (Do one, then the other? Or was it addressing some guy named Shave?)
Tonight’s ramble has been very faithfully preserved by Pepperkat’s Playground.
Here’s the definition of plasma, in case you’re interested. Or bored.