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Published by Dutton, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First printing, October 2011
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Copyright © 2011 by William Shatner
Illustrations copyright © 2011 by Paul Matvienko-Sikar
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Shatner rules : your guide to understanding the Shatnerverse and the world at large / William Shatner.
1. Shatner, William. 2. Actors—Canada—Biography. 3. Shatner, William—Humor. I. Title.
Designed by Alissa Amell
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I’ve gotten to the age where I am counting every precious minute, so although none of us knows what is going to happen next, the dice are loaded for me having less time than more. So it seems that I should give a giant shout-out to everything meaningful in my life, ’cause you never know when you are going to get another shout-out. So to my wife, my daughters, my grandchildren, my dogs, my horses, and my friends, I hope I see you all tomorrow. And I’d also like to give a shout-out to Chris Regan, who is a terrific guy, a wonderful writer, and a new friend.
It’s Shatner’s universe. We just live in it.
—PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA, AS TOLD TO WILLIAM SHATNER*
* RULE: Always Take Shatner’s Word for It, Even If You Suspect He’s Lying
RULE: Start Every Book with an Introduction
I , William Shatner, am now eighty years of age, and I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my late mother’s eighty-fourth birthday.
Actually, I’m not really thinking of the
date of her birthday as much as I am thinking about the
of her eighty-fourth birthday. It was observed many times in her eighty-fourth year.
We were in a restaurant—me, my two sisters, our respective spouses, and Mother Shatner, who was beaming from ear to ear. Why was she a-beam? Well, a retinue of handsome waiters surrounded her, bellow-singing “Happy Birthday” as only struggling young actors can. A small slice of cake sat in front of her, its sole candle missing its eighty-three siblings, waiting to be blown out by the happy old lady.
And while Mother Shatner and the waiters smiled, her children and assorted family members scowled.
Well, it was not my mother’s eighty-fourth birthday.
That event had passed a few months previous. And once again, my family was mortified by my
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