Hello Superkins here, and I've teamed up once again with the LEGO Group to bring you series

two of my podcast at your leisure. Join me as I chat to chart toppers, catch up with

comics and yak with YouTube legends, finding out what they get up to when they're not busy being

famous. Expect more excellent guests, sharing more unusual hobbies. So why not join us on the

journey? Listen to the at your leisure podcast with me, Superkins, on Global Player.

There was an notebook that survived the last fire I was called to. I found it in the smoldering

remains of the ashes. I'm not sure if I believe the story in it or not, but I thought I would share

it just in case it's real. Mama said there'd be days like this. Then I thought, and that speaks of

a concerned parent trying to comfort her child to harsh realities of the world. The problem is I

don't recall my mama ever saying anything like that to me. Even if she had, I don't think in her

wildest nightmare she could have imagined a day like that one. It leaned against the inside of a

train tunnel, soaked in sweat and grime, staring at the train tracks, dripped with blood if my friends

blood that should have been mine. My name is Joe. I don't think I'm named after anybody. Mama just

always called me Joe. There are lots of things that Mama always just did. Beating the tar out of

me when I saster. Beating the tar out of me when I didn't kill anything for supper. Being the tar

out of me the day I told her I wanted to learn to read. At this point, you wouldn't think that I

had much tar left in me, but you couldn't tell Mama that. She was a big woman, and I think beating

me made her feel better about herself. I grew up in the little shack in the middle of nowhere.

Mama always called it a cabin. Really just four walls in a roof, hastily put together with stolen

boards and nails, and old barn down the road. Mama always told me that she took care of me. Of

course she told me that the cabin was a huge house, and that learning was bad. I guess in a way it was

for her. I wasn't allowed to have picture books or anything like that. I'll teach you everything

...