Ah yes, embarrassing family story time. First off, I was a brat as a kid. Truly, a horrible, horrible, horrible, obnoxious, loud, spazzy, brat. The kind of kid you had to keep an eye on so he wouldn't five-finger discount candy bars at the supermarket.
....anyyyyyways:
I was maybe 7 or 8 years old and it was my birthday. All the kids I went to school with were there. Friends, parents, family friends, etc. It was pretty sweet. Until I opened a gift from one demented ******* family friend who had a habit of picking on me at the time. I always imagined he was what it was like to have a douchey older brother. The bastard got me a barbie doll. The barbie doll... learned the gift of flight. She was chucked out the window of our two-story apartment onto his car after I threw a tantrum and tried to throw her in the fireplace. Ah... GTs. GTs. Since then though I've always appreciated any gift I've gotten. I'm not really a material person so I generally ask not to be gotten anything but anyone else like me knows that never, ever, ever, ever fvcking happens. If you're one of those people who gives gifts to people who ask not to be given anything.. **** you. Cards? Absolutely. Gifts? Feck off.
Worst experience at a concert?
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