Thursday, August 19, 2004
You think i'm happy about this picture? Well I aint, jerky.
And I know, I know, I'm dead. How am I making this post? Well, I owed it to Keith.
I met Keith back in 1943. He was a struggling piano player. I told him about what I did, and my dreams and goals.
And if it wasn't for that curly haired sumbitch, I'd be dead by now. Well, I AM dead, but you understand what I mean. If you don't, go fuck yourself Charlie.
I told Keith, Keith, I wanna sing show tunes. He told me no. Go for some soothing, lounge style music. It'll sell. So I did.
I said, I think I should be called The CEO.
He said, No, Frankie, you're the Chairman of the Board.
One night in Atlanta, I said Keith, let's just ditch the hotel room.
He said No Frank, we gotta bury the bodies and burn the evidence.
Keith, I'm not hanging out with a black guy and a drunk.
Don't worry Frankie, he said, Sammy's not really black and Dean's a loveable lush.
I'm glad I listened to him, who knows what the fuck woulda happened.
Lemme tell ya something...I run this city. Ever run a city? Well I have. Which city? Whatever fucking city I'm in, I run it.
If it wasn't for Keith, I'd be like you. But thanks to Keith, you all wish you could be me.
the Chairman of the Board