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Michael McMichael: the voice of Hollywood.

An introduction (a.k.a welcome to my face.)

Yes, this is me, the face that raunched a thousand hips

Yes, this is me, the face that raunched a thousand hips.

Greetings and salutations, peasants. My name is Michael McMichael III. Yes, that’s right, THE Michael McMichael III. You may bow.

For those uneducated gibbon monkeys out there whose frontal lobes ache too much to contemplate the greatness of who I am, allow me to explain – for you probably know me already. Remember that famous photo of Brad Pitt at the Academy Awards last year? That’s right, I was the guy stood behind him to the right scratching his penis (mine, not Brad’s.) The night Scorsese won that elusive first Oscar? You bet your bitch ass that was me who handed him the trophy. You’re looking at the epic writings of the man who has appeared in more shampoo commercials than anyone ever to set foot in Hollywood. Ever. I have combed the hair of more A-List movie gods than you’ve even heard of. I’ve padded the bras of movie vixens to whom the closest common serfs like yourself can get involves the internet and frenzied masturbation. While it’s true my star has yet to shine, while it’s true I’ve never gotten that starring movie role I’ve always sought, you can bet your monkey ass I’m better than you. And you know it.

That’s right mortals. My name is Michael McMichael III – the finest Hollywood has ever produced. I am the original Michael McMichael: The Face On Loan From God. Are you in awe yet? You fucking should be.

So from this momentous date forth, I am allowing the awe-struck eyes of the world to gorge upon a collection of some of my more life-changing works. Every once in a while I will embrace this farty little website and grace it with my monumental, monolithic presence – as I divulge to you the REAL world behind the scenes in the moist and rather sweaty world of Hollywood.

~ Michael McMichael III ~

P.S. Some free advice for you peasants; do not allow your ugly girlfriends / boyfriends / love-slaves to see this page. A mere glimpse makes the sexually active melt like Belgian chocolate under napalm. One time I handed Angelina Jolie’s dry cleaning back to her. Our hands touched for the briefest of moments. I swear to God she came right then and there. Multiple screaming orgasms? You bet your ass. Impressed? You fucking should be. My name is Michael McMichael III, and the sun really does shine out of my arse.

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Click here to go back to the home page Click here to see our foolish and drunken attempts at humour Click here to read our humiliation of the worst cinematic abortions the movie industry has to offer Click here to see some of the most bizarre news the web's ever puked out

Click here to see the barrage of other crap we have lying around