texts: Cheer up. Now you can give some other guy a shot. Make it up to him later and buy him a yacht.
labels: For God's sake, forget the money! I'm going crazy! I'm a walking anachronism. I'm a puddle of deja I'm worried about my kids, Scott must be scared to death, I think my daughter's doing drugs again. I can't have any fun here, I don't have that innocence any more. I can't keep all this in anymore. I feel Like I'm going to explode.