Everybody has hope for the perfect love. Normal people are raised to believe that there's someone out there who's your soulmate, your best friend, your lover. My dad always told me that when you find that person, "You gotta nail her"!

Valentines Day is a day we celebrate real love. A love so strong that two hearts become one. Yeah, when you're happy, she's happy. And when you're angry, she's angry. And when you start wallowing in self-pity because your hotrod shop tanks and everybody's against you so you start drinking. And then she moves out and goes and lives with her parents, pfft. Or was that the day after Valentines Day? Doesn't matter. I'll go get another one just like her.

Oh yeah, I'm mentally screwed up for life. But I look good.

So what if your custom car shop tanks and you've gotta take a crappy job at an auto parts store, dealing with ignorant, pushy people. I'm okay with that, 'cause I'm an ignorant, pushy people person.

You don't get a rebate at the end of your life for living with an idiot.

My parents got divorced. Early and ugly. My mum was nuts so I lived with my dad. We used to play a father/son games. Pin the blame on me, rock, paper, get me another beer, casino night.

My father was on the Alcoholics Anonymous wishlist. My mother was on... parole. And lithium.