Thursday, April 12, 2007

Time travel is hard

Sometimes I wish that I was Billy Bob Thornton because then I would have had crazy sex with Angelina Jolie a few years ago.

People would always ask me, was that bitch as crazy as she seems?

I'd be all, she wore my blood around her neck, didn't she?

Damn right, she did.

She tattooed my name on her arm, too.

Damn right, she did.

You have any woman ever tattoo your name on her arm?

No. That's right. Because you're not Billy Bob Thornton.

You didn't do Sling Blade. You didn't play a football coach in that one movie. I did. Me, Billy Bob Thornton. I saw Hallie Berry naked in the flesh and pressed her boobs against my hairy chest.

And while it's sad that I assumed his identity after him and the Jolie split up, it's kind of good in a way. If you think about it, I'll always have the good memories of the sex and the blood we wore around our necks, and all of the chaos we had at the end of our relationship? Time has healed.

And I beat Brad Pitt to her crotch.

How many men can say that?

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