When I was in 6th grade I loved Jean Claude Van Damme movies. Of course we couldn't rent them because we were underage, so we devised a plan that would enable us to feed our Van Damme appetites. One of us (my friend Kanon Knaphus and I) would go to Video Verns on our bike, and the other would stay home and play "dad". When we would take the movie up to the counter they would say, "I'm going to have to call your parents and get permission for you to rent this movie". "Ok", we'd say, "I think my dad's home now". Kanon would then answer in his deepest voice and pretend to be my dad giving me permission.
The weirdest part about it is that this worked every single time. I mean who were those morons working at video verns anyway? Can't you tell when you are talking to a 12 year old kid who hasn't hit puberty yet? I mean seriously! I don't know how that ever worked. (Sorry, if you worked at Video Verns during the years 1992 - 1995 then I must apologize...you are a moron)
here's to you Jean Claude Van Damme! a tribute to the greatest kickboxer ever.