Sal Vulcano

Minnesota is where I originate from.

Very easy.

But when I come to LA, it is head on a swivel at all times.

You're like, get in there, you son of a bitch.

Yeah, absolutely.

Like, hey, hey, move along, man.

Actually, let me, I got this big truck.

Let me plow everybody out of the way for you.

Yeah.

So I was thinking of practical jokes because that's where you made your bones.

And I don't know, is the practical joke dying out with the young man as plastics and circulating estrogen and lower sperm count and rough house, rough play, like all the shit that

we experienced growing up that was perfectly fine.

It was 100% fine that my friend John Tyler, who lived up the street with his buddy Chet, who were like two years older than us,

would invite me and my buddy Chris over to come hang out, like in high school, and we'd go, all right, and we'd start walking down the street, and at some point we'd turn up and we'd start heading up his driveway, going to his house, and at some point two guys would rise up on the roof with BB guns, and we'd be like, what's going on, Chet, John?

You got 10 seconds?

There you go.

So we go, come on, man.

Come on.

Eight seconds.

And they go, come on, John.