I was sitting on my porch this evening, doling out candy to youngsters and knocking back some Yuenglings when one kid cocked his head and said, "You look like Peyton Manning." I smiled, replied that he was a polite and observant young man and slid a double handful of peanut M&Ms into his bag.
It's always nice to be told I resemble some younger, better looking, taller, heroically proportioned and ridiculously athletic guy, even if, y'know, such a resemblance is fragile at best. Ah, sweet vanity.
(On the other hand, I'll bet I could make Manning my bitch on Jeopardy.)
