Got-damn, this has been a hard motherfucking weekend.

See, I just wrapped a movie, due out in the fall, called Soul Men. My co-stars in that movie are Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes. Both those motherfuckers died suddenly this weekend.

For the record, my wife’s currently on the phone with every got-damn doctor in L.A. getting me appointments for physicals, colonoscopies, angiograms, eye and teeth check-ups, and even her got-damn gyno.

Ain’t nothing funny about these deaths. Both those motherfuckers were at the top a very short got-damn list of people I admire. Bernie was a funny-ass motherfucker, and Isaac was so cool he made ol' Sam Jack look as lame as David fucking Hasselhoff.

Recently some dude asked me what it was like to be in a movie with Keanu Reeves. I’ll skip to where the motherfucker admitted he thought I was Laurence got-damn Fishburne.

Like I'd ever been in a movie with Keanu Reeves. Keanu says his lines like they’re being telegraphed directly into his got-damn brain by an arthritic Morse code agent. I’d more likely appear in a movie with the corpse of Nipsey Russell.

So I made a list of the top six actors I will never work with. I'll spare you the got-damn suspense and just tell you that Keanu is number fucking one.

6. Barbra Streisand. Look, bitch, I get it. You got a good got-damn voice that you keep fucking up by never shutting the hell up. Hey, I respect your politics and I respect your diva ‘tude, but got-damn, lady, if you want to be an actress, then act; if you want to be a politician, run for a got-damn office. Don’t be bringing that shit onto the set--them snakes don’t give a got-damn that we invaded Iraq.

So Robert Novak, the conservative column-writing motherfucker, was driving along in his Novak-mobile a few days ago when a guy on a bike knocked on his window and informed the 77-year-old motherfucker that he’d managed to find--then run over--the only dude in Washington DC older than he is.

Novak must’ve been all like, "Holy shit, I thought I was the oldest fucker in this town! And how the fuck did a dude on a bike catch up to my Novak-mobile?"

Witnesses claim the elderly pedestrian Novak hit clung to the Novak-mobile like a got-damn bug. Novak claims he didn't see shit because he was listening to NPR -- a station so abhorrent to his conservative-leaning ways that it's a miracle he stayed on the got-damn road. How should we expect the motherfucker to notice some old man pressed up against his got-damn windshield like a got-damn gremlin?

I ain’t buying into this Batman bullshit. First of all, I went to see the motherfucker, and was pissed off that there was a comic book movie out this year that I ain’t associated with.

How can you have a movie based on a got-damn comic book and not have me doing something with it? All those geek motherfuckers will be demanding the director's ass on a spike until I pop up at the end, then they'll say, "Damn, that movie sucked the sweat off a dead man's balls, but at least it had Samuel L. Jackson in it." Why the fuck you think I'm in The Spirit? Because it's a good movie? Fuck naw. I'm there to save director Frank Miller's ass when the fan-boys see how shitty and redundant his movie is.

That's what I do. That's my motherfucking super-power. I can leap tall Hollywood shit with a single got-damn bound, and bring some fucking cred to a totally bullshit screen adaptation. Tell me you didn't sit through all ten hours of Iron Man credits just to see my ass. I dare you. I double-dog dare you.

It’s Tuesday, which means I answer fan mail. I'm only responding to two of you motherfuckers because the rest just kept asking me how to get a part in Quentin's new flick.

Dear Mr. Jackson, like a lot of people, I am offended by the New Yorker’s terrible choice this week. Since you are a supporter of Mr. Obama, will you sign my petition that condemns the magazine for its racist cover? Thanks --Bill W., Salt Lake City

It’s a funny fucking drawing. Look at that shit.

You got Michelle Obama about to go on a shooting spree (when the fuck is the last time you heard of some sister going postal on suburban USA? We all know it’s white emo kids with firearm access we need to be scared of, not some black chick in fatigues). You got Barack Obama in a night gown, wearing sandals with socks like he’s your father on a Sunday afternoon. You got Osama bin Laden’s portrait hanging over a fireplace that has an American flag burning in it. What kind of a dil-hole could possibly find this absurd shit offensive?

The motherfuckers getting all up-in-their-got-damn-arms about this cover insist the satire of the piece is lost on those morons in the Red States.

Fuck that shit. I don’t know about you, Bill, but when I find something funny I admit I find it funny. I don’t spend time wondering if the motherfuckers who think Limbaugh is a got-damn political genius agree with me. I mean shit, if those Limbaugh-listening motherfuckers were the yardstick for humor, Jim Belushi would be getting more work.

Normally, I ain’t the type of guy to talk about another man’s balls, but it’s becoming a major got-damn trend to ruminate over the nut-ability of Barak Obama.

First you got Hillary Clinton supporters speculating on them, saying that the bitch’s got more “testicular fortitude” than any of her got-damn “Gucci wearing, latte-drinking opponents,” like people who wear Guccis and suck down lattes ain’t got no sack. For weeks, everyone in the press felt it was appropriate to pour over my man Obam’s manhood like they were Linda Lovelace or some shit--and let me just say this right now: I don’t never want to hear Chris Matthews say the word “nads” ever again, unless he’s talking about some got-damn hair-removing product.

Since it worked so got-damn well last time, I'm gonna declare Tuesday "Samuel L. Jackson Answers Your Dumbass Fan Mail Day." As usual, the typos are included because it makes a sad got-damn commentary on the state of the educational system when you motherfuckers can't form no got-damn proper sentence.

I got religion yesterday, praise the motherfucking lord.

Since we’re hitting some hard got-damn times and even Ed McMahon is losing his house, I worry my ass over what to do. But my man Obam has come through again, and is stating his intention to expand Bush’s faith-based programs.

So as of this moment, I’m faith-basing. My faith-base is called ‘The Motherfucking Church of Sam Jack the Endorser’ and my mission is to endorse as many motherfucking checks as I can get from Uncle Sam.

What happens is, I get some letters every now and then, and I usually answer those motherfuckers one by one, personally, because I ain’t no fucking Hollywood douchebag like some of these motherfuckers who pretend they ain’t got the time to put the personal touch on their got-damn fans. They got the time. What they don’t have is that special Sam Jackness I got going on that makes me want to sit down and type out some shit to little Betty Lou in Omaha or bADdMOFOjR@bumfuck.net.

I thought I’d share some of this shit with you. Their questions and comments are their own fucking typing, so don’t be sending me no Strunk and White handbook telling me to correct my fucking grammar and spelling. I know how to write proper. These motherfuckers don’t.

Hi, mr jackson!!! I’m 5 years old i live in florida and my momma says you r my daddy. will you help me by a bike? i promise i’m a good kid. --Davey L.

Davey:

Boy, fuck your got-damn momma, cause I sure as shit never did. All my got-damn kids live in my got-damn house, and they got three motherfucking bikes a piece. Make your tired old momma get off her damn ass and go down to the Wal-Mart and buy you a bike her own damn self. And stay in school, motherfucker--someday you might be famous enough to have some bitch claiming you the father of her illegitimate crotch-fruit. Keep it real!