There was and will be blood.

So, we're sittin' there watchin' my favorite movie of all time when whats-his-face gets all pissed off that we're not watchin' his favorite movie about the lady who dresses her kids in the curtains.

I'm like, "Mofo, you're an actor now, ya gotta watch movies wit' what they call method men, who, like these guys here, in this movie, really do in real life, what they gonna do before they do it for pretend."



Well, the next mornin' I'm eatin' my cornflakes and there's whats-his-face starin' in my window like some pervert. Turns out he was cast as Healy, that goofy bastard stalker in "Something About Mary".



But, it was cool when he got the part of the servant boy in Kiterunner. He was servicin' me right and left...



Then, a few months later, all excited he tells me he gets the part of Corleone in the remake of my favorite movie of all time. So, I'm like, "Which Corleone, mofo?"

He forgot and told me he would just method all of them...



Well, every time I turned around he was comin' at me, tryin' to purge me from this earth.



But I work out more, so I can take his ass...





But that didn't stop him...he just found people who didn't work out.so much...



Finally, I was like, "This ain't "The Killin' Fields", muthafucka!"

My tuition told me that whats-his-face was missin' something...something I think they call newants. That means actin' wit' out killin' people. So, nice guy that I am, I played Frito...as you can see here...and I think I got across to him, that newants thing, pretty good.



I even let him kiss me...in public...on the mouth...



Well, the next part he got was in a remake of that movie where they break yo back on a mountain. In my most menacing tone,  I was like, "Don't even think about tryin' to take me to some mountain to break my back...I'll break yo's in half befo' yo' even know what hit ya.".



So, the next day, Father Fitzfruity pops out from nowhere and greets us with, "Top o' the mornin' to ye! Are you two fairies ready?"

I'm like, "Who yo' callin' a fairy...and ready for what?"

Lookin' at whats-his-face kind of confused, Father Fitzfruity responds wit', "To become hoosband and hoosband, of kerse."

"Sure Father...get on wit' it." I responded, much to my surprise, still not understandin' what this had to do wit' breaking backs on mountains, but fully understandin' a "star" was in the makin'.



And so it was...a star was made. Yeah, I know...muh beautiful boy don't look so beautiful below, and it was a muthafuckin' chore to talk pretty boy into makin' his face like this, but I did it 'cause I'm strong like that.

Anyways, he scored...but even more importantly, wit' blood all ova the fuckin' place, sweat and tears, I scored.

Woodys

So, I invite whats-his-face over to watch some TV, and he brings his girlfriend wit' him, Miss potted plant 2008...still potted, and in her birt'day suit. Then, 'cause she's starin' at me all erotic, he gets all pissed off ...




.like I'm doin' something to encourage it. So I'm like, "Yo mofo, is it her birt'day?"



So yeah, turns out it's her birt'day so, I'm like, "Let's go to Woody's (our fave restaurant) to celebrate.
Well, Miss-Potted-Plant kept on her birt'day suit, but fortunately for me, unplanted herself 'cause she decided she wanted to to sit wit' me. Whats-his-face didn't seem to mind...




Nope...he just sat there, wit' his food in front of him, starin' it down, like it was goin' to morph into Michael Jackson and moonwalk to his mouth. So, I snapped, “Bitch. there's little children goin’ hungry ’cause their ma's sold their food stamps to get high, and..." I couldn't remember the rest of what birt'day girl on my lap told me about her rough upbringin', so I was like, "Eat it mofo befo' I pop a cap in yo cracka ass"



I'm just 'bout ready to give the birt'day girl her birt'day present, thinkin' whats-his-face is cool wit' that, since he taught me everything I know when it comes to the big "O", when I turn my head to see him comin' at me wit' an ax....




Well all I got to say is, it's a good thing Miss potted plant unpotted herself 'cause she wiped his ass out wit' one blow...




...but don't feel bad for whats-his-face 'cause after he woke up, he went out and hooked up wit' that girl wit' that hard-assed boyfriend and had an offspring.
And me and Miss potted plant ...well, she wanted me to take over where whats-his-face left off. I was like, "'ho, yo need to go out and get yo'self a rabbit!..i ain't nobody's bitch."

Revelations from under the burka

This is me here, discussin' all the adverntures that me and whats-his-face had under the burka...well, he was under the burka mostly.



My first revelation from bein' over there is that Michael Jackson *RIP* would've been much better off being born under the burka...




Well, whats-his-face disagreed wit' me. He said, "How could he have invented the "moon walk" from under a burka? He woulda landed, crumpled up in a big black heap of...."



To which I replied, "Number Uno, this aint FARGO, bitch! Stop wit' that whiny assed, cracka assed, talkin' about a black man like that...anyways, he make yo' white bitch ass look like Shaft . And number dos, this here ain't the moon, this here's the earth...wtf do we need a muthafuckin' moon walk for?




Now, next up we met these two here below. I'm like, "Why yo mofo's got that dude there coverin' up yo....uh..."




Well, before I could formulate a word that would translate that precious part in all parts of the world, whats-his-face chimes in wit' "pickles"..




I was like, "Pickles?!? Yo' expect them to understand that? .Usin' a muthatfuckin' dead vegetable to represent 'hi ho silver'? Speak fo' yo'self bitch. Just 'cause yo's lies there like a prostate dog ..."

Then, I thought of a word, so I turned back to those two mofos and I said, "missles". And wit' that they understood and they answered, "Im a ninja god."


.

"Im a ninja god"?? WTF?!? Queen one and Queen two there ain't no any kinda god. Well, so much for who that dude is they got coverin' up themselves..if we would've had some extra burkas we would've gladly put those two under some. They was pissin' me off so much so that I grabbed whats-his-faces burka and threw it on myself and closed up the face and drug him in the nearest swimmin' hole thinkin' he would enjoy that. But noooooooo he was all pissy 'cause I took his precious burka.



Well then after that eye-closin' experience, we ran into this guy here, askin' where his vote was. How the fuck should we know? Maybe he could find it if he wasn't so busy paintin' himself up wit' Christmas colors in June.




Still soakin' wet from the swimmin' hole we run into this here. Little did we know that Mr. Christmas up there lookin' for his vote would bring out the fire hoses. I guess Mr. Christmas Tree decided to use real fire when lightin' himself up. If ya ask me, they's all a bunch of drama queens, makin' big deals ova sexin' and celebratin' a summer christmas.



Anyways, I could go on forever but I won't. I made this here picture collage to represent and Im gonna make this the cover of my book.


To sum things up, I renamed my book, "real men don't make women wear burkas" 'cause they don't. The men over here, even though some of 'em are good lookin' as you can see...they gotta change their minds 'bout what's right and wrong, and stop puttin' their women under burkas to make 'em invisible like they don't matter. They also gotta stop killin' people for stupid stuff. I mean I know Texas likes to kill people too, but not like over here. Texas don't kill people for not wearin' no burka or 'cause two people wit' the same precious parts just happen to like each other...nope, in fact, Texas got the largest population of those kinda people in the whole country.

Here's a picture to remember Michael Jackson by.




and another one to say goodbye.  I really think this is the way Jackson would've liked to have departed.



and another one 'cause I think this is one hell of a catch

.