When I was born, my parents were running a bulk fuel business in my hometown. I was basically raised in the office of that ESSO fuel station for the first few years of my life (which explains a lot of my current brain damage and any future cancers I may acquire!)
With the number of farmers who hung around waiting to place their orders, pay their bills or just generally shoot the shit, it’s not hard to believe, as my mom swears to this day, my first three “real” words were (in order): “clock”, “combine” and “fuck”.
At least that last one wouldn’t be forever known as my first word…unlike this kid: