I have never done anything for anybody who couldn't do something for me. I string along an eager kid with promises I'll pay him money. I only keep him around because he looks up to me. Adam, if you're watching, don't be a publicist. You're too good for it. I lie in person and on the phone. I lie to my friends. I lie to newspapers and magazines who, who sell my lies to more and more people. I am just a part of a big cycle of lies, I should be f***in' president. I wear all this Italian shit because underneath I still feel like the Bronx. I think I need these clothes and this watch. My Two thousand dollar watch is a fake and so am I. I've neglected the things I should have valued most. I valued this shit. I take off my wedding ring to call Pam. Kelly, that's Pam. Don't blame her. I never told her I was married. And if I did she, she would have told me to go home. Kelly, looking at you now, I'm ashamed of myself. Allright? I mean, work so hard on this image, on Stu Shepherd, the asshole who refers to himself in the third person that I only proved I should be alone. I have just been dressing up as something I'm not for so long, I'm so afraid no one will like what's underneath. But here I am, just flesh and blood and weakness, and uh and I love you so f***ing much. And, um, I take off this ring because it only reminds me of how I've failed you, and I don't, don't want to give you up. I want to make things better, but it may not be my choice anymore. You deserve better.