I'm the co-owner of a clothing company (www.mrgirth.com) with a confident--some would say cocky--attitude. I'm a hugger. Shaking hands is too informal. Children trust me. I miss rollerskating birthday parties and goodie bags. I would still trade Garbage Pale Kids if I knew someone who still had them. I'm in-touch with my feminine side because my sisters forced it upon me. I plan my dates -- never leave it up to the woman. Show some competency. I have an eye for casting. It's natural. Some would say I cast those in my life well. I write well. People love it and forward my work to their friends. See my work on www.whatzitgonnatake.com. I dislike exclamation points, especially when people use them in one-word sentences like, "Hey!". Stop fucking yelling. I have an eclectic group of friends. Each one of my friends is better than your version. You've got a genius friend? Yeah, well, my genius friend is smarter than your genius friend. End of story. Get it? Good. I take care of my body. And I can eat whatever I want. That's a fact. Get some metabolism that works. I'm that guy who speaks, acts, and looks like a mogul. I'll have my hand in everything by the time I'm dead. Mr. Girth is just the start. I'll be selling bowls of cereal to investment bankers at 3:00pm, making millions, while Damon Dash, Diddy and Russell Simmons look on going, "Damn, how does that white boy do it?" www.cereality.com I can dance. I have never taken lessons. Give me 10 minutes and I'll copy your routine, but I'll do it better than you do it. Walk into a club and you may be lucky enough to see me dancing. Most women can't dance. There's nothing sadder than a hot chick who thinks she's the shit trying to shake her stuff and look sexy, but all you see is her uncoordinated ass trying to pull-off her high school cheerleader routines. Get in the minivan, honey, and pick up your kids from soccer practice. And remember to TiVo Desperate Housewives... Best of all, I am that guy who loves his mom because she beat cancer! That deserves an exclamation point. To all the corporate slaves, I feel you. Been there. Done that. I escaped. Get up, step away from your cubicle, let go of the expense account fantasies, grab your balls off the floor and make your life happen. |
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