For months, I was the one who fished all day in that small aluminum boat – bringing home the protein – fish, I was seven-years-old. Does that sound like – even a middle class – thing rich kids, any kids, kids with bling, kids with guns, something kids with laser beams from Mars Bars for eyes would do. No. They do not fish. We were dirt poor. I had one pair of clothes. Sometimes, all we ate was fish. I don’t know who these tabloid writers are talking about. It’s not me. I’m not quite that malicious.

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