In the immortal words of the now infamous Whitney Houston... Hell to the NO!
You know, life is just a game of manipulation. You just got to have an unshakable strategy to reign victorious each time an assault awaits you. Some worthy allies who you can surely depend on along the turbulent ride. Utilize your face's holes and smart senses effectively to easily distinguish those who are capable of stabbing you in the back, regardless of relationship. And you gotta have faith, just exactly how it goes in that aging George Michael record. Well, not really. But I digress. Of course, there will be episodes when you'll find yourself in such a baffled, clueless, Paris Hilton disposition that you can only have the slightest idea of ejecting the clogs that hinder your journey to the top. But at the end of the day, you only have to be a sharp contriver and a fearless combatant in order to survive. You only have you. I only have myself. No more, no less.
These emulous schmucks just ultimately love feasting on - well, what they begrudgingly call - my falsities. I therefore manifestly discard my tendecies of caring too much about what these fuckin' nincompoops had to say about me. And I quote Mary C. Kraemer, "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired". So you know what? Kiss my Asian ass, bitches. You can rot in hell, for all I care. *folds arms, rolls eyes, stomps right foot, and proudly walks away* ((: