Growing up, road trips with Dad were something I hated. Sitting still for hours, singing that stupid song, "100 bottles of beer on the wall. 100 bottles of beer..." Dad, you know, keeping up with the song.

I have a dream. With that one sentence, Martin Luther King touched and empowered an entire nation. You know what else he did? He made everybody else without dreams feel real bad.

Born free. Taxed to death.

My dad don't like lies. He says it hurts people in the long race. He prefers the truth. That hurts them instantly.

My mom had this inate ability. Whatever town my mother moved to, the second she walked into town, she would instantly attract the alpha loser of that town. This guy was not a good guy. This guy was half O.J. Simpson and half O.J. Simpson. Scott Peterson sprinkles on the top, a side of Robert Blake. You know, not a good guy.

Everyone has an enemy. It's why God gave us baseball bats. Well, He gave us trees, but we knew what He meant.

I got divorced from my wife on June 6, 2006. Yeah, 6-6-06, which coincidentally, was when my wife turned into a demon spawned from Satan's anus. But for legal reasons, I have to call her, Kate.