While I was incarcerated, my many frienemies broke into my apartment and stole a bunch of my coolest shit. Now, a lesser man could have found himself so balled up, recovery would be impossible. But as I’ve stated many times, when life serves this mutherfucker lemons, I brew up some lemonade, bake some lemon squares and use the rest to strip the wax off of the floor. Now, lest you all think I’m eerily Jesus-like, I will still kill a mutherfucker caught with any booty from the job, and would reward any tip leading to the execution of the shit-stains responsible for the theft of my beloved Jackson/Charvel model 7 with the color changing paint, pot leaf inlays, and EMG 85 pickup in the tail position…Confucius say “He who laughs last laughs best” and he had his shit stolen a bunch of times.
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