People Can't Figure Me Out; They Can't

There Was This One Time In Vegas When I Took Four Victoria's Secret Models And Did One Gram Off Each Of Their Bodies Within, Like, 45 Minutes. I Declared Myself King Of Vegas And Decided To Remodel My Hotel Room With My Bare Hands To Resemble King Louis Xiv's Bedroom At Versailles. Knocked Down Two Entire Walls, And Later Had Four Knuckle Surgeries. Still Wasn't As High As Rob Ford.

I So Desperately Wanted To Be Mr. Somebody. Instead, I Was The Little Brother, Included To A Point.

I Think The Honesty Not Only Shines Through In My Work, But Also My Personal Life. And I Get In Trouble For Being Honest. I'm Extremely Old-fashioned. I'm A Nobleman. I'm Chivalrous.

Those Of Us Who Did Make It Have An Obligation To Build Again. To Teach To Others What We Know, And To Try With What's Left Of Our Lives To Find A Goodness And A Meaning To This Life.

We're Vatican Assassins. How Complicated Can It Be?