Dad: "I saw a cougar on this road once."

Me: "You did, really?"

Dad: "Yep. I was coming back from a fishing trip, and when I rounded this corner up here, I saw a cougar walking along the side of the road. I had my brights on, and it turned and looked at me over its shoulder, so I stopped the car, but it turned and walked down the side of this slope. In the spring, all of that flat land out there is flooded about a foot and a half deep. So I backed up and turned the car so the brights were shining down into the water, and I got out and stood at the edge there, looking...I could see the water moving where it had walked through, and the saplings moving farther out. But then I realized, I'm standing on the side of a road in a patch of bright light with a large wild cougar somewhere around, I can't see it, and this thing could take me."

Me: "...Jesus Christ, it's a mountain lion, get in the car?"

Dad: "...Yeah. Pretty much."


P.S: Evan wants it known that the other day he uttered the phrase "I'm so happy right now, I want to punch you in the face."

My mom is royally pissed at me for not having finished the book she gave me as an early graduation present yet. I'm just like, "WELL EXCUSE ME FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO WRITE THE GREAT AMERICAN NOVEL AND READ IT AT THE SAME TIME."

I mean, not that Next can be technically classified as a Great American Novel, but it has monkeys and corrupt politics and lots and lots of sex, three things that probably embody the American ideal better than Nathaniel Hawthorne ever did.