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Welcome to The Tribe.
Your Humble Ruler, Rajah Cheech Beldone, King of the Gypsies.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

You gotta laugh...

An ordinary burglar?
Kill the Comedian? Ridiculous.



Fireworks. You gotta be kidding me.
You know, you'd think this goddamn
country had had enough fireworks.
Me? Bitter?
Fuck, no. I think it's hilarious.

There's nothing to talk about.
See, I'm leaving.
I'm gonna forget about you...and your horrible, sweaty,
little piece-of-shit country.

Get the fuck out of here.



Justice.
Justice is coming to all of us. No matter what the fuck we do.
Goddamn, I love working
on American soil, Dan.
Ain't had this much fun
since Woodward and Bernstein.

Our days are numbered.
Until then, it's like you always say:
We're society's only protection.
- From what?
Are you kidding me? From themselves.
Son of a bitch.

-What happened to the American dream?
What happened to the American dream?
It came true!
You're looking at it.

It's a joke.
It's all a fucking joke.
You know, I thought I knew how it was.
I thought I knew how the world was.
I've done some bad things.
I did bad things to women. I shot kids.
In 'Nam, you know.
But that was fucking war.
This...
I never done anything like this.

Here I am...spilling my guts...to one of my archenemies.
But the truth is...you're the closest thing to a friend I got.
What the fuck does that say?
Shit.

Mother, forgive me.

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Really.