The Seventies were surely a good decade to make it big, The Eighties a good time to be notorious and the nineties a sure darn good time to spend in prison, or six feet under.
Woulda been cool rubbin shoulders in a club with John Delorean, Christina Onassis only to in less than a flash spot Robert Maxwell who thought he was too cool for school. All that while John Gotti was sippin fine wine in a little Italian restaurant in Brooklyn plotting how to hit old man Castellano.
Forgive me for being so fucking nostalgic, but I hate eastern European chiquittas making it big somewhere else in the world, I hate good looking guys who make it in one movie that actually flopped and now they give themselves an excuse to go all superstarry on everyone, and in this day and age, that is the closest you will ever get
“Ta beein a Heeroe!”
*God bless Bobby DeNiro*
I’ve been engaged recently with a guy, lets call him Bigbird.. he has immense amounts of product that needs to be distributed, he cant find the right channels and is looking for a facilitator. This guy’s way of doing business is sitting on your local ahwa, and pickin a favor from his next door neighbour, who regardless of how small time he can be, Big Bird thinks he’s the best at his game.
He wants to expand now, realized he’s smalltime, and wants to hit the big scene. So he wants to do it “the right way” or so he thinks it is the right way.
He wants to roll in a jag, (benzes are so last century)…and he thinks Jags are American. He wants a business looking type front man… and to him anyone who correctly pronounces the word “port” is the business lookin type.
He claims he has 35 Billion LE, and everyone around him confirms that, yet he still meets in very weird places, I mean what kind of Billionaire exactly has a team meeting in mo’men el manial?
What makes me want to shoot myself in the head is, that this guy will make it big, with or without me, my way or his way, legal or illegal, he will make it big, and his kids will get into good schools, probably be classmates with my cousins kids..and pathetically enough, his kids will be the cool kids, and my cousins kids will feel like lesser beings in comparison to the little birds cause they have the cooler expensive toys, always invite everyone to their place to play in one of their 5 pools ( it’s the smaller one where the kids can pee in). All of this why?
Because today, in this day and age, its all about making money, not how you make it.
We’ve reached a point of obsession with money, that it doesn’t matter how its made anymore, we just want it, want people to have it so that we can deify them, they give us hope, that its possible for us to attain, that if the guy who used to sleep 8 in a room and overhear his parents fucking can now have a mansion to each of them , if that pip can have it, it gives us comfort that Goddamnit so can we.
We’d do anything, even step on our own values, sole name traders and multinational corporations alike. Whats ridiculous is, this newfound pursuit or system entrenched us into doing the ridiculous. Law school graduates driving cabs for a living cause its more lucrative, Harvard school dropouts becoming the worlds richest men, and Harvard graduates driving Japanese cars…or even working in a casino, where one day the biggest gambling whale walks in and they still ask em for their social security number. 2allak that’s the system, and the system never bothers anyone…hehehe…
*God bless Bobby DeNiro once more*
Do people really think its an achievement to swim in money? People…allow me to remind you in case you have forgotten, what the hell is money…
Its nothing but a promise…
A promise that one day, if you cash in this filthy piece of paper, that traded itself a hundred times over in its lifetime, changed hands from dirty to clean, some dude with remnants of shit from wiping his ass, stuck in the cleavage of some sweaty old hag cause she doesn’t have enough of it to buy a purse , or even up the nose of a rockstar to snort some Charlie with it, that well traveled highly contaminated piece of paper is nothing but a promise like I said, that one day, if u turn it in, to The Queen, or Alan Greenspan or that big building downtown, they will give you its worth in gold.
And just in case you didn’t know, it is surely an empty promise.
So we poison one another for a promise
Kill one another for a promise
Sell our souls and bodies ( prostitutes and hard workers) to be worthy of being promised.
You get the idea…
And beleive me, I aint one of those people who dont make money, so the whole "the people who say money is the root of all evil are the ones who dont have enough of it..." doesnt really apply here
Moving on, I hope you also know that money doesn’t get you anything, it is merely a means, it should be used to refine your life, not define it. Life’s problems aren’t solved with money alone…
I mean with all the money in the world, you still have to take care of your health, Billionaires do not buy an immunity from Cancer, HIV, or Heart Disease, you still have to be charming and have a character to win some lady’s heart, money does not get you women ( if you disagree, look at all the arabs on gameat el dowel street in summer, they aren’t charming khales) you still need a job, fuck it you will open up your own thing? And do what run it? Don’t you need erm skills for that? If you have them doesn’t it require effort habibi? Running a business aint easy, 90% of the people I know running their own thing are suffering, if not failed and no, not all my friends are losers.
You still have to be a good parent, yes with money you can get them what they want, but is that all it takes to being a parent?
Last but not least, the million dollar question, happiness…does it really buy happiness? Then why are all the movie stars so lonely and depressed? Why do those living a life of extravagance and abundance always have these sad looks on their faces and never content with what they have?
Real wealth is intangible, it doesn’t come with an account number and pin number, and guess what, despite that it can never be stolen, it has your name on it…however, Money has the name of your Treasury on it,
Real Wealth brings fame, it is what is really coveted, and believe it or not, it doesn’t need a grammy or an oscar to keep it…its there and it stays, even if the highlight of your day is sitting on an ahwa off Lebanon street.
Real Wealth brings love, even if you are the worlds biggest bum…
Real Wealth brings happiness, cause you can never tell what is going to happen between the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep, but you know…whatever happens in between, its going to be okay.
Admit it…
I have a point
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