Last night I called over a taxi for Jack Black and his entorage/groupies/hangers-on.
Ten of 'em, altogether, going to Borgata.
I called over two cabs (6 pass. max.) and got not so much as a thank you.
:rolleyes:
I only clicked on this in case “called a cab for” was a euphemism for a bizarre and exotic sex act I never heard of.
I love Jack Black. But if he ever asks me to call him a cab I’ll tell him to call a cab himself. Then I’ll say “that was for Enola Straight.”
I can’t stand him myself. I also would have, when asked to call a cab, said:
“I’m so sorry, how did you hurt your thumb?”
Jack Black: “Hey, can you call me a cab?”
Enola Straight: “Ok. You’re a cab”
rimshot
Jack Black: “Hey, can you call me a cab?”
Enola Straight: guitar music “STEP OFF! STEP OFF! STEP OFF! STEP OFF!”
For the life of me, I cannot understand why this man has a job, let alone fans.
Loud and obnoxious can be funny, but he isn’t.
Over the years I’ve come to quit expecting much in the way of manners from those named after Whiskeys.
I’m worried about how he’s going to play in the upcoming King Kong movie. Andy Serkis is reportedly doing a spectacular job as the ape, and I don’t want the whole flick arsed up by Jack Black.
Was Laura Kightlinger with him?
That why I hate the bastard, I’m jealous of him dating such a funny sexy babe.