In a normal family, a surprise means presents, cake and a party. For me ? I had no idea. And my family, doing something nice is seen as an attack. When I was nine, I 'attacked' my father with a fathers day gift. A visor organiser for his car, because it was useful. And it rhymed. Visor. Organiser. I was nine.

My father, never chooses me for anything. Unless he needs a human shield. Thirty years and all I am to him is a hunk of meat to block buck shot. Told you dad needed me. Who's the best man now?

Passion, manners, and 80 ounces of beer will win the heart of any woman. And if it doesn't, you'll be too hammered to remember.

We are brought into this world cold, weak, and helpless. Then it gets worse.

So it seems that because of every syndrome and disorder we've invented in the past twenty years, the Los Angeles Times reported that 63% of American families are now considered dysfunctional. My God! That means we're the majority. We're normal! It's the people who have the mommy, the daddy, the brother, the sister, the little white picket fence - those people are the freaks, man!

If you ask my dad for help... he'll help. Like a vulture helps an over-run armadillo on a Texas highway. One peck at the time.

And one more thing I want to be clear about - I know who I am. I am just a very thin layer of charming with some funny sprinkles wrapped around a huge creamy center of raging arrogant a-hole. I got it.