crispratty:
I think you mean best Chris. It’s okay, I’ll let it slide this once but don’t let it happen again. I knew it. It was the best year of my life because you weren’t around and now I have to suffer again. I think you live to make me miserable. I bet you really hid just to think of new ways to torture me. No way. I’m not admitting it or admitting that you’re right by saying that. Ugh, I know. I have half the internet pointing out that I’ve gained weight so it’s only a matter of time before Marvel start cracking the whip and hiring people to drag me out of bed at 4am to go workout for a million hours. Oh, you’re not making it to the end of the week now. You insulted Marvel and they’re planning the best way to get rid of you without anyone noticing. I’ll say some really nice, fake things about how great you were, don’t worry. I’m calling you J-Daddy from now on until the end of time. I think you should legally change your name to it, to be honest.
You look nothing like Hemsworth, so I’m not mistaken. Dammit, you got me again. Am I really just that predictable? You were too out of line and your mom prayed something would come along to keep you in check, bring you back down to size. I am an answered prayer, Pratt. The blessing you need in your life. Don’t worry, you don’t have to. I already know the truth. 4am? Hell no. I’d pitch the idea that Star-Lord has been doing a lot of stress ‘n’ depress eating ever since Infinity War to keep me off a treadmill before the sun rises. I thought I left all the fitness bullshit behind the minute I put up the bow and arrow. I welcomed fries back into my life and canceled my gym membership faster than you could say ‘mockingjay.’ I mean, they’d be doing us all a favor, taking me out. Good, good. In addition, I request you sing Cher’s Believe as they wheel me out, and make sure channel me when you do it. That is my legal name, Chris. Jennifer is just a nickname. J-Daddy Shrader Lawrence, on the birth certificate and all.














