The Rundown Pt. I

Ok folks. This is where it all began. Shawn Wonka didn't always used to be a Wonka. You should know that right now.
It all began in Prince Albert Sask. Born ten minutes to midnight. You can use yer charts to figure out the significance of that, but I find none in details like that. 1984. And no, I wasn't so fortunate that my parents listened to Van Halen. They were more interested in moulding little Shawn into that perfect specimen of a pure hearted man. Understandably, this is what every parent would hope their child turns into later in life, but they chose the direction of religion to apply this coat to my personality. Therefore, I grew up believing strongly in the Bible, in their Adventist doctrine that every kind of meat was bad to eat because in the end times it would all be determined to cause disease, and most importantly that doing anything 'secular' (or ordinary fun, by any other description) between the hours of sunset friday night and sunset saturday night (the hours of the sabbath) was a great sin.
Now growing up in the Prince Albert area, there aren't a lot of distractions to divert one little pastor-protege from his forced beliefs. The sports suck and therefore don't inspire that kind of future in a boy's life, the gangs involved in the city's boundaries are admittedly enough to make any person pray for their safety when walking around, and most of my friends from school lived a mile or more away since I lived on my Grandfather's farm, which my father kept up as best he could. So I was conveniently snug in my forced and heavily monitored beliefs and so you'd think this would allow my parents to sleep at night. Funny because my mother and father argued more than Archie Bunker and Meathead, which later led to my father developing a strange twitching-kicking motion in his sleep and since then they have slept in seperate beds.
More to come. Don't go anywhere.