My Own Plans to Have Will Smith Smack the Living S**T Out of Me Just Shifted Into High Gear
ATTENTION WILL SMITH! I’m Right Here In Brooklyn. Come Get Me!
You know what’s nice?
I’ll tell you what, so you won’t have to guess. — A lavish lifestyle, free of silly concerns about a next meal or late mortgage payment. Having the best medical insurance, a lovely home, and living the American dream… as portrayed in American films.
It’s a swell life. Easy breezy.
So, to facilitate that for myself, I plan to sue actor Will Smith for a F**K-Ton of money. Of course, I can’t sue him for the atrocities he’s caused such as the film “The Wild Wild West” which, to be fair, damaged me irreparably to where I can no longer go to see movies that don’t make a lick of sense and aren’t entertaining in any way shape or form because the script was written by ferrets with pencils taped to their mouths. Oh, how I’ve suffered. First while watching it and then remembering it forever like having mental herpes.
No, I plan to spend my days and nights devising REALLY FUN ways to entice Will Smith to beat the silly out of me by slapping me right into next Tuesday, as I now know the way to make that dream, a dream which has consumed me, into a reality.
