Hi, Dave. It’s me, John. Let me take a second to build up some credibility. In 6 years on January 27th, you’re going to get married to Sarah, the girl you keep complaining about who sits in front of you in your Biomechanics class. At your bachelor party beforehand is when you finally let on about how your shitty dad beat you your whole life until he croaked from cancer when we were in ninth grade ...