I was fired from a job on 9-11. AFTER the terrorists attack, which is an important distinction. You have to be a really weak employee -- a top to bottom jackass -- for a manager to remember to fire you after the world seems to have ended.

Chapter 25- the last three times we had to drive to the hospital because one of my brothers or sisters nearly killed themselves by accident. See, in the 1980s, nothing was child-locked- aspirin was available at stores like so many loose screws. Kids could walk into active kitchens and, long story short, when you were one of six kids- you were ALWAYS at the hospital.

Stories on how dads can not handle the stress of driving long distances with kids. The kids never get in sync with their bathroom breaks, they fight and, in this case, they also get your thrown out of restaurants. 

Sean talks about attending the first, or one of the first, craft beer festivals in Cleveland during the 1990s. The open bar requires that patrons pass regular sobriety tests, which Sean and his friends eagerly agree to. There's also a spirited discussion on what makes a bar a dive bar.

After surviving enough close calls in my teens and early twenties, I came to believe, for a short while, I was indestructible, which created an awkward situation when I was diagnosed with cancer and delayed treatment to attend a Cubs game.

When hackers deleted the most viewed youtube video of all time, it reminded me of the time I engaged in my own bit of cyber crime, in the 1990s after a radio top 40s DJ said The Clash was a bad band.

Traveling to New York City with a broken back, torso cast and shattered heel, I have the best time of live in the Bronx. We have a strategy for saving money on booze at the stadium that both works and destroys us. We also notice that New Yorkers are incredibly nice to us, while threatening to kill each other.

Chapter 18, where I talk about how I drunkenly purchased a website that nearly ruined my job search. I also discuss St. Patrick's Day in Chicago and how they dye the river green.

When customers used to scream at me or team members, I sent them to a fake retail store. The directions actually landed them at a terrible strip club in a bad area of town.

A chapter about the career-long quest my friends and I had for obtaining fake IDs in high school, along with our frequent plans for skipping school, most of which were well-executed and therefore boring, but some that failed spectacularly. Our best plan ended in skipping school to cross the US border.