They go around complimenting me on my new shoes, tell me I'm not going bald. Do you think they really care? I'm the boss. They're scared of me. They have to kiss my ass and laugh at my stupid jokes.
There's an old Italian saying: you fuck up once, you lose two teeth.
All due respect, you got no fuckin' idea what it's like to be Number One. Every decision you make affects every facet of every other fuckin' thing. It's too much to deal with almost. And in the end you're completely alone with it all.
You wanna talk rules? You wanna talk all that old-school bullshit? Then remember this rule: I am the motherfuckin'-fuckin' one who calls the shots!
Every morning I wake up thinking, is today the day that one of my ‘best friends’ is going to dime me to the FBI? And a weak fucking sniveling, lying drug addict? That’s the worst kind of bet. The biggest blunder of my career is gone, and I don’t have to be confronted by that fact no more.
Log off, that "cookies" shit makes me nervous!
