By Dennis Rodman
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Additional info for I Should Be Dead By Now: The Wild Life and Crazy Times of the NBA's Greatest Rebounder of Modern Times
Example text
That’s what fame and money can do to you—and them. Not that I give a shit one way or the other. I think most people who meet me really like me. They think I’m a true motherfucker, honest, down to earth, and pleasant to be around. Others are just there for the ride. ” But whatever somebody’s motive is, I can roll with it. I learned a long time ago that worrying about that shit—trying to judge people—can cut into a man’s party time. Anyway, it doesn’t matter if a particular person uses you or not.
Go down the line. But whatever happens, by my way of thinking, you can’t let that kind of cynical bullshit rule your life. You should always leave the door open. Reality Check: Trust first, and ask questions later. After a couple of hours at Cheetah’s, the booze had really kicked in, and I was ready to move on; so we took off for the Hard Rock, got a couple of rooms. The stripper said her goodbyes, and Mike and the bodyguard thought they were done for the night. Wrong. Next stop: the circular bar above the Hard Rock casino where I bought rounds of drinks for everybody.
I have a thing for motorcycles. I got my first bike, a Kawasaki 1100, about 15 years ago and haven’t been without one since. I even posed on a Harley for the cover of my autobiography, Bad As I Wanna Be, but—seeing as how I was buck naked—nobody said much about the bike. Anyway, I love motorcycles. So why not make this guy’s day? , I led my little entourage of Mike, the bodyguard, the manager, and one of the strippers outside to look at the cycle. It was a red and black beauty with an attitude—a rocket with handlebars.