Proof that the twistedness of my mind is genetic and totally not my fault:
I'm currently visiting My Old Stomping Grounds...back home again in Indiana. Sunday morning, Beloved, SweaterGal, Dave McCool (my wife, mom, and brother), and I were driving to church and passed a young deer that had lost an argument with a motor vehicle sometime during the night.
I said, "Oh, Bambi!"
My brother: "Nope. Looks more like just BAM."
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