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Growing up, I had a rascally older brother who would always try to lead me astray. He’d tell me things like the Cubs stunk and the White Sox were No. 1, when I knew that was utter disinformation.

He’d do things like write “Jeff is a butthole†in a tiny notebook and hide it somewhere in the house, knowing I’d search high and low to find that notebook to make sure no one else found it, read that passage, and got the wrong impression about me.

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