I’m about to fucking KILL MYSELF because I decided it wouldn’t be so bad to cover a friend’s pizzeria shift from five to 11.

Is this what it’s like to “earn a living”? Having to deal with fat-fuck peons and feeble-minded delivery drivers?

FUCK THAT SHIT.

I’m a liar. I’m a thief. I’m a con artist. I’m above all of you.

I get what I want, when I want, and still manage to make it look easy.

Hate on me all you want, but I’ve been hustling since Y2K and have no plans on going back to the way things were.

I win. I will always win.