What in the cornbread skidmark hell is going on with this generation? Once upon a time having the genetic configuration of a Madagascar tomato frog would limit your partners to Walmart shoppers. Now? No one even pumps the brakes. Support [HERE] [HERE] and [HERE]
I don't think that title and/or thumb truly convey the crossover that's about to happen here. But if it costs $50,000 to get an 8 pack of Oscar Mayer's uncured wieners into a female's dung funnel, then life is no longer worth living. Inflation did this.
Ya know for a girl that's spent this much time in tattoo parlors, you'd think a forehead big enough for UBER to charge $17 to go from nose to scalp would get a little bit more attention. Then again, something tells me rational thinking isn't one of the tenants of someone who writes "when I fuck i dont give a fuck" 6 inches away from their shitter.
Flipping the Minnow, Clubbing the Chimp, Procrastabating, Shaking Hands with Bruce Willis - Call it what you want. I refer to it as the only reason to leave the house other than to stock up on Mr. Pibb and fried dough. Shoutouts to feminism for empowering these women.
This condition is more commonly known as "high maintenance". It happens when all your sexual experience comes from Ikea tutorial videos, so you seek the refuge of desperate males and develop less communication skills than The Undertaker. #sadtbh
Hey maybe this is your thing, and so be it if it is. I just want to make sure we're all on the same page when it comes to buying modern day remakes and how they should involve as many bodily fluids as possible. Always shop smart. Shop S-Mart.
Listen: If you delinquents keep spamming your entire loadouts before the first checkpoint is captured, I'm gonna have to turn this into an official series. That kind of uncontrollable pressure reminds me of a romantic moment involving myself, a $20.00 bill and the McRib. Let's just say mom's Plymouth Vista got a new interior paint job that night. [PART I] [PART II]
Dude looks like he walked into a tattoo parlor and said "yes". Luckily he's hung like a brontosaurus to round out these constructive life decisions. Not sure I was expecting that twist at the end though. Kinda reinforcing the whole don't judge a book by it's cover thing, aren't we?
The reality of having less musical talent than an asthmatic hedgehog must have hit her like a sac of 90's PSA videos and she needed clout, badly. How can life get any worse you ask? Well... I'll let searches for "how do you stitch a butthole" answer that.
