Shawn Michaels was LIFE to me, as a child. I mean, LIFE. There wasn’t wrestling, there was Shawn Michaels, and I’d eat, breathe, sleep, playing with his action figure all day and pretending I was him. So when he went over in the Rumble, and Pamela Anderson was the prize, okay I’m a little kid and I’m watching Baywatch, you pretend you don’t like girls but I’m like ‘look at THAT thing’, you know? That’s a prime piece of real estate, and this guy just entered the Royal Rumble; undersized guy, goes in number one, wins the whole damn thing, skins the cat at the end, comes back in, throws the Bulldog over. Pamela Anderson’s sitting in the middle of the ring, I’m saying to myself, ‘This guy’s the friggin’ man, dude! Who’s better than this guy? That’s exactly what I wanna be!’
So when I was a little kid, they asked us to draw pictures in the school of what you wanna be when you grow up. Kids are drawing firemen, kids are drawing policeman, kids are drawing all this stuff. And, they’re cardboard cutouts and they connect them all down the hallway, in your elementary school. Every single grade, every single homeroom. I draw a picture of me with a vest that says ‘Sexy Boy’, yarn on my chest hair, yarn mullet coming out, long earrings hangin’, ‘Boy Toy’ written on the legs. These people let me do it! They get a kick out of it, all the kindergarten teachers and everything, they hang it on the wall then they call my parents in for a parent/teacher conference, like ‘look at what your son did’.