John Tetzlaff won't buy me a bass; part 1

Yeah, thats right. Mr. Hollywood Johnny, Uncle Money-sacks himself, declined...no, no, outright REFUSED to buy me a bass! What an ass! I'm over here, buss'in my chops trying to make a living, and he's sitting on his golden toliet, reading Forbes and taking shits that smell like bakery-fresh cinammon rolls. What a bastard. All I'm asking is $3,000 for an upright. Is that so much to ask, mister "I-make-a-ba'million-zillion-dollars-a-day-and-I'll-eat-lobster-for-every-meal"? I say nay nay! Fine. Sit in your ivory tower and smoke your imported Ottoman shagg pipe tobacco, all the while, petting your very well manicured Palmerianian. I'll be over here, choking down my Ramen noodles and sleeping on the local rats. Thanks for being a jerk... jerk.

This rant brought to you by a generous grant from the John L. Tetzlaff foundation. When you think class, think Tetzlaff.