A mentor once told me, “Steve, you get out of life what you put into it.” I told him my name was Joe and asked if the stain on his collar was blood. He got a weird look in his eye and stabbed me fourteen times with the blunt end of a shovel. I survived the attack, but my favorite shirt was filthy. Thankfully, Method removed the stains and made it smell like honeycrisp apple. Shortly thereafter, he was hit by a cement truck and died a comically painful death.
With Brian Perkins