There is NOTHING like The Grind, my guy. Nothing like having my boiz line up outside the conference room, tapping our sensitive little balls over The Big Merger, making eye contact with The Big Boss as he gives me a slow nod from his office. Nothing like laughing at the betas who don’t have what it takes to climb their way to the top. Nothing like knowing some of these fuckos are driving home in a Mustang while I’m getting my balls drained in a Bugatti. Nothing like making enough money to carelessly buy a boat. Nothing like naming her Money Never Sleeps, never using her, not even once. Nothing like calling my dad and getting his voicemail, whispering, “I did it, Dad, I did it,” to an almost full mailbox.