I Will Keep A-L-L Your Shit Confidential, Justin Timberlake

Dear JT, ***

I swear I was sitting on the Q this very eve, just thinking about how much I miss your hot ass and wondering where the eff you be? And Lo and behold, here you is...gettin' all demandin' and shit at your press junket for The Love Guru. I likey!

Luckily for you, I don't give a rat's fuck what sort of reindeer games you play, because I'd give my own grandma a beatdown if you asked me too real nice like, with that half smile, shit eating smirk you work like Barack at an NAACP rally.

Having said that, a bitch can't help but be curious about what sorts of secrets you're shakin' in your Japanese, limited edition, designer sneaks about the journos revealing. An engagement? Having your ass kissed by Coldplay? The Diaz-n-Diddy Titty Committee?

Eh, who am I kidding. I don't really care. Take your pants off.

Now.

"Mr. J.T. What U Got For...,
me"

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