Ya’ll already know about my after-credits cameo in Iron Man. And if you don’t, fuck you. Get out the got-damn house and go see the motherfucking movie. What ain’t being talked about is my cameo after the Sex and the City credits. I ain’t supposed to say nothing, but it’s so got-damn cool I got to pass this shit along.

It goes down like this: Samantha, that hot older bitch played by that chick that was in Big Trouble in Little China, comes home after a long night of fucking everyone in Manhattan, and she’s tired, right. She’s walking funny and her lipstick’s smeared and she smells like Skyy vodka and KY.

She opens her door and the camera cuts to a wide got-damn shot of her impossibly huge loft apartment. There’s a dark figure standing at a window, looking out at all the sex going on in that got-damn city.

Samantha pauses as the door slowly closes behind her, cutting off the light coming from the hallway. The dark figure--me, motherfucker--turns from the window. “Got-damn,” I say. “Samantha Jones.”

“Who are you?” Samantha asks, moving her tight ass slowly across the hardwood floor towards me, and she's scared, yeah, but she's also just as motherfucking excited as you would be if you came home to find Sam Jack loitering around your got-damn windows.

“It don’t matter one got-damn bit who the fuck I am,” I say gently, standing as still as the motherfucking Rock of Gibraltar. “You think you the only got-damn whore in this city? Hell naw, bitch.”

Samantha gasps and stops her slutty fucking movement midway between the motherfucking closed door and her rumpled-up unmade bed that smells of sex. I mean, got-damn, her sheets got a higher sperm count than thread count.

“I been watching you for ten got-damn years, and I think you’re ready. You gonna be one of my bitches now, Samantha. And I’m gonna take real good care of your ass.”

Tight shot on my pimpin’ mug, and fade to got-damn black.