So... Where's Owen Goin'?

On my last day in Vegas, I happened to have the pleasure of riding the elevator with the Hooter family.

Mom in a Hooters Chattanooga t-shirt.

Dad in a Hooters t-shirt (didn't see where from... the city was under his belly roll).

Girl in a Hooters Albuquerque tank top.

And small boy, no more than two... in a Hooters t-shirt.

Turns out the kid has celebrated both his 1st and 2nd birthdays at a Hooters restaurant.

(Trust me, I could hear the banjos playing... it was tough not to burst out laughing, or start crying at the atrocity. I managed to wait until they had left the elevator before I repeatedly said "Oh my God, oh my God".)

And on the way out of the elevator... the Hooters mom proudly mentions that the kid has a Facebook Fan page.

So, of course, I had to find it.

And here it is in all its glory.

Does it seem odd that the kid's dad is a member of every anti-Obama Facebook group out there? Didn't think so.

(I still can't get the banjo music out of my head.)

Seriously... you can't make this shit up... not even in Vegas.