An Open Letter to My Fans, Followers, Publicists, and the Twelve People who bought Empire State:

I am not a shoplifter. What you are going to hear on TMZ in the next few days and possibly months, because I’m The Rock, the greatest actor who ever lived, if you disqualify Scientologists, is only one side of the story

Every year I throw a party for the cast and crew of good movies I’m in. For the last nine years it has been the same people from The Fast Five, so I wanted to do something beyond the normal cake, ice cream, and ketamine party and have a pig roast. But going to the butcher is a pain in the ass, especially if you’re the Rock, and I’m the Rock, and they always tell me how much I would cost if I was brisket.

My friend Alicia Silverstone told me about this really fun place called Cowboy Merv’s You Surprise ‘Em, We Euthanize ‘Em Relatively Humane Pig Farm.

It’s kind of like a pick-your-own strawberry patch on the side of a two-lane highway, except this place is live pigs and it’s in Burbank.

I visited Cowboy Merv’s and told him I wanted a 300 lb pig for my roast. He informed me that I would need two pigs.

Most people would ask for assistance in corralling two pigs, but I’m the Rock, the Tom Cruise of the Canadian Football League. I’m more than capable of cornering two pigs.

But the pigs saw me and freaked. I was chasing them like they were credibility with spiral tails, when they broke through Cowboy Merv’s poorly constructed fence and onto the set of Young Sheldon. I finally grabbed both pigs right underneath the dartboard they always have in TV bedrooms even though no one ever plays darts on TV. By this time, I was behind schedule for slow roasting the pigs in Vince McMahon’s Shutup and Eat It Sauce. I had every intention of Venmoing Cowboy Merv but I had two live pigs in my hand when the Burbank PD rolled up, shot the pigs,and handcuffed me. Before I could bribe them with a cameo in my next movie, they offered me a lenient sentence if I would join their crisis team. They needed me to talk to Jack Black, who was barricaded in an Applebees and refused to stop playing his acoustic guitar.

I am not a shoplifter and I am not a snitch. I am 260 lbs of fabulously talented (and now misunderstood) muscle.

Thank you for letting me tell my irresistibly charming side of the story.

Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson 

Jimmy Doom’s mom won him at a church carnival and never threw a dart at a balloon again. Jimmy has written for Orbit Magazine, The Detroit Metro Times, pays for cat litter and Mallo Cups with his very own blog at Substack, Jimmy Doom’s Roulette Weal , is the official spokesbunny of Altes Beer and has gotten his ass beat or OD’d in over 40 films and music videos.