My brother and I wanted to write a book. Every time we got together to work on the book, we discussed how great we’d be on the Ellen show. I know what you’re thinking. “What? You get along with him even after that time he locked you in the chicken coop?” or, “You still speak to him even after that time he convinced you you were retarded and you quit talking for a week?” Look. I’m willing to put these things behind us and move forward. What happened last month is in the past, man.
It became clear to us that our real dream wasn’t to write a book, it was to be on the Ellen show. So, we skipped all that boring character-building crap in the middle — hard work, dedication, starvation — and got to work on our Ellen debut.