SWAGGER - the workplace rules.

SWAGGER

2 Workplace rules.

There are rules, Son.

Rules for growing up, rules for showing up, rules for getting’ laid, rules for getting paid.  

Son, there is a different rule for every ’fuckin’ day.  Rules Son, rules. Read about them.

These next simple rules apply to the day you get your first real job… and everyday thereafter.

I have no doubt that one-day, you will work your way up in world and you will have it all going on.

You will achieve a social level that you are proud of and people will like your style….

You’ve got that Swag.  That Swagger.  That thing…  Young man, rock on.

Here are the two fastest ways to blow it.

If it sounds like I’m lecturing you, it’s because I am.  You will thank me for this one day.

Remember this; I am crazy.  Not stupid.

Ready?

WORKPLACE RULE #1

“Don’t get your meat, where you make your bread.”

I repeat: 

“Don’t get your MEAT… Where you make your BREAD!”

Let’s say you’ve started something good?  You're working hard, you end up spending all your time at work.  Then as things would have it, you end up "getting together" with a co-worker or a client or someone that is directly or indirectly connected to the place you work at.

No matter what you MAY think, this person is now indirectly connected to your money.

I repeat:

That means someone you're fucking around with is now connected to your MONEY! Dumb-ass.

(aka: The Mean Green, Cheddar, Chips, Duckets, Moola, The Qwan, The Ka-nipple)

If you like your job, and that paycheck you’re getting…    Eat elsewhere.

Son, there are plenty of fish in the sea.  Goddamn ocean full of em’.  
Take some of those paychecks and travel. 


Meet someone, abroad… preferably...

Think about it.

WORKPLACE RULE #2
It doesn’t matter if you sell cotton candy or cocaine…

“Never get high on your own supply.”

If you sell French fries… Don’t eat the damn French fries!


Why would waste something on yourself that you could be selling?

If you sell gas, don’t fill your own ride up for free…

If you work in a hospital, don’t do your own damn drugs!

It’s that simple.

Any child of a child of a future child in my children’s future lives will tell you straight up. 

“If it don’t make dollars, it don’t make sense.”

This is the same guy selling you fries.... Think about it.

Mother Fucker, I am crazy.  Not stupid.

Good Luck,

The Bad Man