I keep thinking that saving for retirement is probably not a good idea. In all seriousness; the chances seem high that nuclear holocaust, world war, and/or collapse of the global economy will occur before I ever have the opportunity to see the maturation of such a fund. Honestly, I think I'd be better keeping my spare cash under a fucking mattress if that's the case, because doing so would make me the richest dude on the block.

Everyone else would've lost their ass in the ensuing chaos, stock market crash, etc.; and I'd be the only one with real money. I wouldn't use that money to pilot my way to the top of the miserable heap that humanity had become, though. Doing so would only make me a target, and I don't own any guns or feel like hiring security. I'd take my cash savings, and move the hell out to the country. Buy a big plot of land, raise crops to feed my family. Oddly enough, that sounds really relaxing.

Except for the whole 'civilization plummeting into chaos', 'collapse of global economy', 'nations reduced to warring tribal factions' thing. I just figure if I get far enough into Kansas I'll be alright, because people will forget the midwest even exists.

It's that line of thinking upon which we've based our decision to start a garden in the backyard. Okay, well it wasn't that line of thinking, but I like to imagine it was. We want to grow muskmelons, watermelons, cucumbers, tomatoes, squash/zucchini, peppers, spinach, lettuce, broccoli, carrots, herbs, and an attempt at Muscodine grapes. Yeah, I know. But we both grew up in families that had large gardens, and I come from a decently long line of farmers. I'm not kidding, when I was a kid, we had a 12x30 in the backyard of our suburban home, and my grandfather had one in the front yard of his suburban home that dwarfed ours.

I don't have the nuts to put ours in the front, I'd probably get attacked by these yuppies that live in my neighborhood. Hey, I thought yuppies had died off too; but let me tell you, those motherfuckers are alive and well. Remember the rant from a couple days ago? Friggin' the exact same scenario happend on Saturday night. It's not very often I call 'em blind; and I have to admit I was a little disappointed that things turned out the way they did.

We had some friends over for the night, and we all sat on the porch enjoying the nice weather and the fire burning in the backyard. Apparently, my neighbors were having a little soiree of their own, as we could hear groups of people coming to their back porch for the occasional smoke. Eventually the man of the house hops the fence (which is to say, he damn near busted his drunken ass trying to get through the hedge, climb the fence, and make it to the other side; a fairly quick, graceful motion while sober but a rather palsied and clumsy operation for him), to come over and introduce himself. This is the truth, he fucking walks into my backyard wearing a pair of black, flatfront slacks, shiny black leather shoes, a belt (seriously, who the hell wears a belt on the weekend??), and this collared, button-down shirt that looked like it was made out of satin or something. "Yeah, we're just drinkin' a shitload of wine [I fight to keep from rolling my eyes], hangin' out." He introduces himself as a mortgage lender/writer, hangs for a few minutes, shooting the breeze, and then says, "You guys should totally buy this place." He was a nice enough guy, just totally vacuous. It's fucking Saturday night, 11pm, you're hammered, and you still can't avoid trying to make the sale. How terribly depressing.

It could have been worse though, he could have been a total prick. He was friendly enough, which I must say I'm thankful for. I could be living next to someone more like myself, which would either result in mutual (but unspoken) disregard or monthly fisticuffs.