Hate The Player, Not The Game.

Recently a making it rain writer who shall remain nameless was in San Fransisco for a week on business. After a long day of buying and selling the most sought after real estate in the entire Bay area he decided to go out and have a few beverages with his co-workers.



Now as many of you already know, once one begins drinking it is nearly impossible to stay in the same bar for too long. You decide that none of the beers satisfy your palates enough or perhaps the ladies at your current bar are of questionable character. Questionable in that they won't do you of course.



So after leaving a bar or eight my fellow making it rain writer found himself the last man standing amongst his co-workers. Not a tremendously big deal, often times we find ourselves as the last one out. But this night while on the prowl for booze and broads my fellow making it rain writer ran into what is regarded as an enemy to both the baller and the common man. The pathetic street thug who is trying to emulate us though ways other than hard work. You may know him by their common name; a mugger.



The knife wielding man asked my fellow making it rain writer for his wallet. This came as no surprise to the co-founder of this site. He imagined that this "wanna be baller" had read out site and imagined he had mad cash inside of his wallet. Little did he know exactly how much money he had. Upon opening the wallet the "gangsta" was amazed and realized that the wallet was just too thick with money and credit cards to steal everything out of it. That or surely if he took the whole wallet that he would be slowed down by its massive weight long enough for the police to catch him.



So the would be crook looked at the real baller in awe and realized that not only could he not get away with all of this money but that my fellow writer would be able to spend it in much more creative ways! He then realized that he did not want to miss out on the enjoyment of reading about it at a later date! So the "punk ass bitch who robbed my friend" took a small amount of cash and ran off into the San Fransisco moonlight. Just remember punk ass, he remembers your face and if you ever come to Portland or Buffalo that you fat ass wanna be baller ass is going down.