My 18-year-old daughter came home with the letters FACK inked on the knuckles of her right hand.
"What's that," I asked.
"It's the name of a new beer my friends and I want to make."
"How'd you choose that name?"
Then in her best VO voice:
"At the end of a hard day, you need a Facken beer."
"Give me a Facken beer."
"I don't just want a beer, I want a Facken beer."
I have a feeling I'll be working for her someday.
(Not that I don't already.)