Ginger Spice 2.0 straight up forgot to wipe her ass. She's got a shit-soaked thong that's leaking out malt balls left and right. What's awesome is the dumb motherfucker that decided to use his own finger to inspect the mysterious brown substance. Hepatitis C baby.
The soundtrack was so bangin, I had to fulfill your request(s). Wanna know what's not though? Whatever the fuck must have happened to this girl earlier in life to make her like this. Probably haven't seen that kind of wreckage since the great crave crate challenge of '97.
Pretty much the most perplexing acts of genital manipulation I've witnessed since marathoning all 47 volumes of SSBBW Ivy and Friends Videos. My voice matters today more than ever before.
Trying to convince your wife to participate in what can only be described as gathering of the juggalos that serves pasta salad? Bold. But her response? Giggling like she found an extra tender in her 4-piece. Relationships shlamationships.
Reminds me of something my grandpa used to say: Your output is only as good as your input. Not since the the trailer for Terminator Dark Fate have I been so disgusted with women over the age of 40.
For fuck sakes, these dorks could've thrown a dart at any billboard in Las Vegas and found better ideas to attach to their bodies permanently. I haven't seen people this far out of their comfort zones since the launch of Burger King's ultimate breakfast platter.
Symptom #293 you need to put an end to the all-turnip and MDMA diet: You develop the sex drive of a cinder block followed by the kind of speech impediment that could end a marriage in Alabama. But rather than seek Dr. Phil's help, you do this instead.
I haven't come across so much reason to develop erectile dysfunction on purpose since going down the lore on [this social media creature]. It truly is an unfortunate day to have eyes.
Like spending the entire 2 hours and 28 minutes in front of Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, these women have found a taste they'll never be able to get out of their mouths. No refunds. All reflexes. Perhaps another hobby would better suit their needs? Like professional Marmite taster (look it up), or Human Scarecrow (don't look that up) for example.
Another edition featuring triflin' ass hoes, hood rats of all kinds and a singing crack head with erectile problems. They call him Uncle Jim and he can do any unskilled miscellaneous task for the low-low.
