Tonight, in the aftermath of a long, harder-than-I-expected day (which, fortunately, concluded with some homemade ice cream cooked up the old-fashioned way--with liquid nitrogen--in a chemistry professor's front yard, and then with delicious fish, and then with my favorite Dracula adaptation), I am sorting through old e-mail, and I have found the following, which my father sent me (in the middle of the night, with no provocation) last summer.

Only as I grew older did I realize what good faces could be made from large, thin pepperoni.

It's pretty simple, really: I don't know anyone as cool as my father.