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Nick Nolte

So, apparently nobody asked me to be in The Expendables 3. The good news is I don’t even give a rat’s hairy ass. I’m WAY over it. MOVING ON, cause I have better things to do.

Look, I know that there’s a lot of movies I’m not right for. I *get* that. And at first, I thought The Expendables 3 was a movie like that. But then I was eating a taco with Kelsey Grammer and I asked him if he wanted to come over to the pool on Saturday. He said he was “busy” and got real squirrelly.

And now I know why Antonio Banderas didn’t RSVP for my potluck. Or why Snipes told me he didn’t have time to use the rake he borrowed and why he asked for more time and then returned it to me clearly unused (not even a little bit of leaf stuck on it anywhere). I guess I’m the one with egg on my face. I guess I’m the big idiot. Every single one of my friends was off filming Expendables 3.

So you’re like “BIG DEAL, cry me a river, Nolte.” But here’s the thing: it’s pretty rude to find out from a movie poster. Ya know? I almost dropped my metal detector when I saw that billboard. Un-be-goddamned-lievable. I had to sit a piece to let it hit me. I almost left my bag of treasure on the beach.

I mean, it’d be one thing if Sly wanted to call me up and say, “Hey Bro, there’s no room for you in this new Expendables movie. We got room for a tax cheat, a huge anti-Semite, a washed-up ex-Governor and some pretty-boy karate-choppers but we don’t have room for any lovable rogues like you, Nolte.” No problem. Haters gonna hate, but at least hate to my face. The amount of doubt thrown my way over the years? I’ve proved ‘em all wrong so many times, they could make a wrong sandwich out of the wrongs. People said: no way Nolte can play a homeless guy, he’s too handsome. I said “Down and Out in Beverly Hills.” People said: no way Nolte can out-funny Eddie Murphy, I said “48 Hours.” People said, no way Nolte can star in Prince of Tides. And I said: “Prince of Tides.”

Point is: Nolte loves a challenge. I wouldn’t sleepwalk my way through the Expendables like I know Harrison did, the snob. I wouldn’t rely on some dumb fishing hat to give me a character like that numb nuts Grammer did. Hell, I’ve got a notebook full of backstory and brainstorming about a character I developed. But I ain’t gonna waste my breath telling you more about Handy Mason, the sous-chef turned diamond thief turned badass cuz you’ll never see him. Your loss.

And Sly: you won’t need Nicki Finke to tell you that I won’t be E-viting you to watch pay-per-view boxing at my pad any time soon. Better pay your cable bill, friend. No stuffing your weird face with jalapeño poppers at Nolte’s this year. Kitchen’s closed.

So good luck with The Expendables 3. Minus $8 from your box-office projections, cause Nolte won’t be there. He’ll be making new friends: new friends that just might want to be in an ensemble action pic I’m dreaming up, starring a certain all-grown-up “Karate Kid” and his team of Recyclables, and featuring cutting-edge CGI effects that’ll have you believing in talkin’ dogs…but you’ll have to wait for the poster to find out what I’m jawboning about.

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