Oh Mr. Smith, I adore thee and all of thee writing credits that thee has accumulated since before Clerks. I love your witty banter, your jokes, your stand up routines (yes, even ‘Too Fat for 40’) and am trying to find a way to see Red State and your interview afterward next week at the New Beverly.
I love the way you poke fun at organized religion (‘Dogma’), were a great friend to Mewes when he needed you most, and continue to keep all of the irritating hipsters in L.A. angry by owning a home that once belonged to the oft-mocked best bud of MattDamon (This is not a typo; it must be said as one word as stated in the ‘South Park’ movie). I love the way you describe your dogs (the retarded lab, the smart lab, and the wiener dog) and how you incorporate them into your everyday life—the SPCA should make you their honorary spokesperson.
You do great interviews and even your stuff that is supposed to be self-deprecating actually comes off as self-aware and enlightened (Well, maybe that’s a little too far. Maybe that’s compared to the bullshit out here West Coast—where no one is honest about anything except whether or not the stalls have toilet seat liners).
I look forward to working with you one day and hope you at least read this and agree that you are a wonderful writer director and future Oscar winner.
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