When I told some of my Cracked cohorts that this week's HBN was going to be about Will Smith, I was met with much shock and alarm:
"I LOVE Will Smith," DOB proclaimed, while attempting to spray a six pack tan line onto his abdomen.
Mikey Swaim agreed. "Will Smith makes me forget I hate all Black people," he said.
Chris Buckholz had a slightly different take: "Dammit, Gladstone! Who the hell gave you my phone number?"
I'll be the first to admit that Will Smith is not particularly hateable. But HBN is a harsh mistress. Each day I try to fill this world with a little more love and compassion, but HBN is there, staring at me with it's bullwhip, full body leather, and 6 inch fetish heels, demanding that I spew venom online. And me ---tied up and fitted with gag ball--- just can't refuse. Actually, that doesn't work at all. "Harsh mistress" is not a very good metaphor.
HBN is more like a drunken, cocktail waitress offering quick gratification with a minimum of effort. Yeah, that's better. So sorry, Will. I didn't have to do it, but this interview of yours is the equivalent of Mandy at the Hi Lite bar writing her phone number on the back of the check. Watch it after the jump.
Gladstone wants to be your special friend. Check out some more of his stuff HERE and OVER HERE and HERE TOO.