And now another excerpt from...

"Donald: What Did I Drink?"

Foreward: by Mathew McConaughey

Hello, former and future "Sexiest Man Alive" Matthew McConaughey here. As to why I'm writing this foreward, well that's a long and amazingly interesting story. I'd tell it here, but then you would be less inclined to see the movie adaption, tentatively titled, as of this writing, as "Murder in a Purple Hue." The breathtaking and heartbraking film is currently in production, with yours truly (that's me) as writer, director, star and best boy grip.

While the news of this impending addition to my already stellar film career (with the exception of The Wedding Planner, for which I have and continue to profusely apologize) is something everybody reading this should be excited about, it does not explain why I would write the foreward for a book written by and about someone who I have repeatedly threatened to eat alive. The simple answer? I did it so I could make the damn movie. The long answer? I agreed to write this on the condition that I would be allowed to write whatever I want without fear of legal retribution. That way, I could guarantee that this book would have at least a small amount of truth of it therein, because if there's one thing that I know, it's that the following pages will be filled with lies and slander, not seen since the last issue of Oprah's magazine hit newstands.

Donald, or as I like to think of him, Mini-SatanHitlerPants, is quite possibly the most all-around reprenhensible creature I have ever tried to strangle with my barehands. And that's saying something. Back in my boyhood in rural Texas, I spent many a romantic evening trying to choke the love into many a dog-faced gal and occasional effeminate guy.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Donald sucks. Read on.

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