Im unbelievably foxy. Im also hilarious and the son of an oil baron, so none of my supermodel girlfriends have ever broken up with me.
When future historians speak of my greatness I hope they remember me for my words, and not for my rugged good looks that united a nation.
I really need to have my entourage arrange a meeting with Scarlett Johansson, because my crush on her is just about out of control. I’m actually a little surprised she hasn’t made the first move, because I’ve been hiding in the bushes on her front lawn but, it turns out, that's not as enticing to the ladies as you might think. I don’t know if she’s just stuck up or what, but… It's also not creepy at all, because when I'm hiding in her bushes I'm wearing a monocle and monocles are classy
It's like Britney goes out of her way to look bad. One of these days she's gonna get plastic surgery and when the surgeon asks what she wants to look like she'll reply, "George Costanza.".
I got pretty depressed once because I finished a delicious sandwich and wanted more, so I tried to kill myself by picking a fight with a gang of hoodlums. Unfortunately my intstincts kicked in and I beat them all up, but the moral of the story is: beating up hoodlums and taking their money is a great way to get sandwich money.
There are only two things I'm certain of in this world: 1) my abs make steel look like Play-Doh and 2) clowns are the physical manifestation of evil. If a clown even thinks about showing up around me there would've been a fist-shaped hole going through the clown's chest and my closed palm squeezing a still pumping heart.
I once left an autographed picture of myself as a tip. Only instead of getting mad and throwing it back at me the waitress started making out with it and rubbing it all over her body. And then her friends joined in and they all got naked. Okay fine I lied. They were naked the whole time.
I feel faint four or five times a day, but that's usually just because I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
I thought I was the only one who got into fights with photographers. I get it. I'm ridiculously good looking. That doesn't give you the right to hide in my closet to get a shot of me changing. I'm more than a piece of meat. Although I understand the interest. A woman once caught a glimpse of my abs and then burst into flames. True story.
Check out http://www.thesuperficial.com/ where I sometimes contribute stories. You know hard hitting news like Lindsay Lohan is a whore. I broke that story and I have the Pulitzer to prove it.
And now various pictures of things I think are pretty sharp. Enjoy.
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