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I’m F****** Matt Damon

‘Cos I really need a laugh today… Though maybe not ‘cos I have knackered my ribs in a freak cat-and-toy-train incident resulting in me falling UP the stairs. Whatever the case, thanks to Good Dog for the links.


Sarah Silverman’s Confession to Jimmy Kimmell about Matt Damon:


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12 thoughts on “I’m F****** Matt Damon”

  1. Actually, shouldn’t that be ARK?

    Freudian slip there methinks – spend too much time with character arcs. DAMMIT.

    Someone take me away from all this!

  2. Ah, you youngsters jumping right to the end.

    There’s Kimmel’s sign-offs, then Matt Damon’s appearance on his show, and then Guillermo reporting from the Ocean’s Thirteen premiere before Guillermo does The Bourne Ultimatum.

    Put some foreplay into it before going in hot and heavy.

  3. If that was invitation GD, then I hate to break this to you but I’m married. No: don’t cry. Don’t make this any more awkward than it already is… ; )

  4. It’s ok, I’ll have Good Dog ‘cos I’m definitely not fucking Matt Damon. Oh shit… Just remembered: I’m a guy. And straight. Now that IS awkward.

    How’s the ribs today, Luce? Aren’t you glad you had a doctor in the house yesterday???

  5. How are you? Good. You’re flucking Matt Damon and a doc? Yowsers! This is a good title for a screenplay also.

    I’m sending you a script (not mine, it’s from Read the first page or two, it had me in stiches last night.

    P a u l

  6. Hope you’re recovering: my cousin had a cat-stairs interface in December and managed to break her leg badly (is there a good way?)… the cat was unscathed. Of course.

    I loved these clips…

    I am not fucking Matt Damon.

    But I might if I could get a decent pre-nup. 😉

  7. You’re flucking Matt Damon and a doc? Yowsers!

    Let me make this clear:


    Not because I don’t want to, you understand but because I know full well that her other half will gut me like a fish. LIKE A FISH. I know general surgery and have removed gall bladders and everything, yet this prospect still frightens me. He is a scary guy, I’m telling you.

  8. Er… Call me old fashioned, but don’t I get any say here? There would be no need for my lovely husband to gut you like a fish Dazza, since I would not touch you with a ten foot barge pole my friend. In fact, I don’t even HAVE a barge pole to touch you with, that’s how little the thought crosses my mind!!

  9. Anyway, there’s a big difference between flucking and clucking, Evil.

    Damn chickens still affecting me from Danny Stack.

    Puzzled looks, pah!

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