When I first saw the link “Kevin Smith issues final statement on the Southwest incident”, I was pleasantly surprised, first by the words “final statement”, then by the fact that the accompanying YouTube video was only three minutes long.  Let’s face it, he had a crappy experience with a crappy company, it’s not Locked Up Abroad. Then I watched it, and all he talked about was the video itself and why he made it.  At which point I realized I was only watching part one OF TWENTY FOUR.  That’s right, after his hundreds of tweets on Too-Fat-To-Fly-Gate and an entire podcast, he still needed twenty four GD YouTube videos.  I didn’t watch any after the first, but unless he fights a giant spider in third act, I’d consider them a colossal waste of time.  And that’s coming from the guy who spent the last 30 minutes making this:

RELATED ASYLUM POLL: IS KEVIN SMITH IN THE RIGHT?

Hollywood producer Jon Peters is probably most famous to FilmDrunk readers as the guy who told Kevin Smith that he didn’t want his Superman to fly or wear a cape, but that he had to fight a giant spider in the third act (I’ve included that video after the jump).  Recently, Peters was given a $700,000 advance to write a tell-all book, but canceled the deal for fear of getting sued when Deadline Hollywood Daily posted the book proposal (though the book itself is still presumably going forward).

And you know the book will be good because Peters turned down the deal by saying, “I somehow feel that the cat got out of the bag before it was ever in the bag, and the cat became a wild jungle tiger on the loose.”  God, I want to make love to that sentence.  Vanity Fair fact checks some of the more interesting stories in the book proposal, including:

He used karate to settle scores.

He was trained in pubic-hair care. After landing his first hairdressing gig, at a Manhattan salon that catered to prostitutes and strippers, Peters became a “‘muff dyer,’ a specialist in coloring and coiffing pubic hair.”

He was fierce when cuckolded. In the late 60s, Peters caught his second wife, actress Lesley Ann Warren, in bed with Warren Beatty and chased the actor around the block, “instilling more fear in the serial Lothario than the rednecks who would kill his character in the upcoming Bonnie and Clyde.”

He never forgave Sumner Redstone for peeing on his antique couch.

He rejected a brazen come-on from Barbara Walters. She invited him to her New York apartment for “a pre-interview interview. Keeping things very chummy, with no pretense of journalistic objectivity, she plied Jon with champagne and caviar, then changed into ‘something comfortable,’ leaving her bedroom door strategically ajar as she stripped down to her bra and panties, giving Jon a 20-20 view, as it were, of the Barbara W in all her glory.”

He almost fought O. J. Simpson at a Cartier store. Peters and O. J. Simpson nearly came to blows after Simpson made a play at a party for Peters’s date, the blonde model Vendela. Simpson tried to humiliate Peters with a joke that doesn’t even make sense, “announcing that if he, O. J. and Vendela had a child, it would look like Jon.” A week later, Peters ran into Simpson at Cartier, and O.J. apologized, offering his hand in friendship. In accepting the gesture, “Jon felt a weakness, and for a second, he thought he could take O.J. out then and there among the diamonds and rubies, but he held his fire. Cartier just wasn’t the place for a saloon brawl.”

If Jon Peters, business-card guy, and Michael Bay were to ever team up, the world would be enveloped in a whirlpool of awesomeness while a Journey song played.  Jon Peters isn’t a man, he’s a Gatorade flavor. Anyway you can go over to Vanity Fair to find out if any of his stories are actually true.  I, uh, don’t really do that.