Dear Leighton Meester and Gentlemen of Cobra Starship,
I would like to hang out with you in this fashion sometime. You’ll find that I can be quite a blast at the craps table, even when I’m losing money, which I have extensive experience in. I sincerely enjoy “making it rain” (albeit, with lower denomonation bills than you probably do), and I’m also a ferocious drunk. I will try to avoid getting screamed at in the (7/11 turned) cluurb and will be on my best behavior, for the most part. Also, I will ensure that I have time off from work the proceeding day to make a full night of it. Things will be broken, drugs will be smoked, drinks will be drank, and other assorted debauchery will take place. I can arrange all of this (“I know a guy!”).
Please feel free to contact me or my Delta Force with any questions.
Sincere regards,
Foster
PS. I’ll invite Lil Jon, if you want. He can be a handful sometimes, but I think he’d be good for this kind of thing, right?
PPS. But no, seriously, it’s my lifelong dream to play craps in the basement of a bodega turned Santos Party House-esque club. How much fucking fun would that be? Also, no camera crew (or party photogs!). None.
