Article By Justin Potts on 1st October, 2009
For the first 23-odd years of my life, my younger brother was, well, my little brother. I remember fondly taking him out on the driveway and beating up on him in one-on-one (though he’ll probably deny it ever happened). I also remember one Christmas when we were much younger and got pajamas. I got Batman, while he was stuck with Robin.
But then he grew up—literally. The sc...
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