Will Smith is vacationing in Ibiza without Jada Pinkett Smith and his stoner philosopher children, but he’s far from lonely since he’s making all kinds of special new friends including this pocket sized Simon Cowell who lacks in furry chichis but makes up for it in raw hairy sexiness. Will Smith is truly a professional, because I don’t know how he’s keeping his composure in front of all the paps while the Thetans on his down low parts throb and almost explode from being so close to cooked sex in a Periwinkle Speedo.
And on a sadder note, Tommy Girl’s Friday night is ruined. The boys at the Scientology bath house shouldn’t expect him tonight, because he’ll be spending his night bawling into his E.T. pillow after finding out that he isn’t the only Hobbit with a scary smile that can make Will Smith happy.