Jen Aniston texts me this morning for mochas at Uurth Cafe at 9 am. I arrived at 8:58, and waited a full two minutes outside hissing off autograph hounds who mistook me for Katie Moss. I said, "Phot-hog's, look I have an 'adam's apple' and I shave my armpits. Google image my pics, and leave me alone. If not, I'm going to shove Aniston's new puggle up your ass."
The script must have been inked in quill, or worse an inkjet, because by the middle of reading it the ink had rolled off the paper, and onto my D&G speedos. Did I mention that I was reading the script poolside, and Manuel threw me in? Him and R. Phillipe. They just know my tickle regions.
Anyway, I loved the comedic tone of the script, and texted Jen Aniston immediately. She was so excited, called, and trumpeted, "I can't wait to work with you, and be on camera again."
I abruptly hung up.
I just wanted the script, and a look at her divorce settlement papers.
Meanwhile, I haven't written to all my lovely fans for so long, and I want to send out an apology. I have still been terribly upset since the loss of Brokeback Mountain to "Trash". Jake, Heath and I have grown beards in defiance to the Academy's blatant discrimininsce. I haven't talked to Don Cheadle since. He is incredibly over-rated. He's like the Lindsay Lohan of the Denzel Washington's. That's not racist, by the way. I'm just an opinionated, humble, genius cat.
I'm back everyone.
Be well, and drink lots of water. Amen.
Becekett Boo, esq.
Cat Blogger Extraordinaire