I was the fat kid, so as a defense mechanism, I was the jokester.
Dad loves my stuff. No matter how many times my voice cracks or I miss a tap, he doesn't care. He's like some businessman making it to his kid's recital.
I was not very well-behaved. I remember I was a discipline problem. I was a typical American male at twenty years old, and I was causing trouble whenever I could.
My knowledge of Vancouver and Canada was limited to what I knew about Bob and Doug McKenzie. I thought they were funny, talking out of the sides of their mouths and saying 'eh' and wearing toques.
I was shot from the funny gun.
If you were shopping for a father, you'd have to take out a serious loan to afford mine. He's the best.
