Oh Yeah? I Think About Forrest Gump, You Limpdick!

By Robin Wright-Penn

NOTE: In the previous issue of The ApeSheet, Sean Penn confessed to fantasizing about Madonna during the course of sexual relations with his current wife, actress Robin Wright-Penn. She has demanded equal time.

So the truth finally comes out. My husband, the “esteemed” actor-director Sean Penn, thinks about Madonna while he’s fucking me? Well, seeing that he’s only sober enough to get it up about once every six months or so, I guess I shouldn’t begrudge him his sick twisted little fantasies about that slut.

Has he seen her lately? You could play guitar with all the old-lady veins and bones and shit sticking out of that neck of hers. Guy Ritchie had better watch out, if he tries to give her a hickey he could chip a tooth. I’ve seen smoother necks on turkeys! Speaking of turkeys, has anybody here seen “Swept Away”? I mean paid to see it? Airplanes don’t count. That’s what I thought.

I’ve got news for you, Spicoli. The few times I’m stoned enough to actually lie naked with you, I’m fantasizing about Forrest Gump! Remember that scene in the movie where I “deflowered” him? Well, guess what? We actually did it! For real, I mean. I hate to tell you this, but Tom Hanks is a bit more, how shall we say, “anatomically gifted” than yourself. Who do you think is sending you all those e-mails for penis enlargement? It’s not spam. I’m dropping hints, you fucking eunuch!

Tom Hanks plays a better idiot than you do also. “Forrest Gump” won a shitload of Oscars. What did you do? “I Am Sam”? What the hell was that? Another in your long line of Dustin Hoffman impressions? They should have called it “Rainman Vs. Kramer,” that’s essentially what it was. Christ, you’re pathetic.

And as far as me begging for a part in a Carrot Top movie, I could use a little something man-sized with a red head on it, if you get my drift.

In fact, I’m going into the bedroom to watch “Gump” on DVD right now. Do we have any fresh batteries?

Up yours, asshole.

Originally published at The Apesheet.