Flattery was never my strong point... and it still isn't. Half the decisions here look like they were made by a person that smokes wet Newports, and yet everyone is chowin down like it's grandma's old fashion applesauce. Your fellow Walmartians will be hearing about this.
This girl has an emotional breakdown immediately following a facial. I initially assumed the obvious - dude must love his jumbo asparagus. But upon a 2nd viewing, I spotted a wedding band on the left hand. This is the part where I'm supposed to call her a slut. Personally, I'd rather just comfort her and smell her butt. I'm romantic like that.
Compliments aren't my strong point, but I must say... chick in the yellow dress is fucking stunning. I'd readily eat Honey Nut Cherrios out of Philip Seymour Hoffman's crusty asshole just for a chance to hold her hand. Someone Russian please hook it up.
This is what happens when you allow incels to explore live environments. Safe spaces are invaded, genitals get exposed - all because some guy who thinks Ethereum will be the world's currency couldn't get his weiner wet at the last box social and is now living a revenge fantasy.
Not old enough to leave Food Lion with a 6-pack of Bud Light, but she's already carrying a body count that would make a frat house blush? You'd think by the semi-centennial cock that went 1v1 with DM-TrainTrackFace she would've learned to fertilize the backyard. But... nope.
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?
A dozen volumes and all we can learn is a two-pack of Coors Light gives the confidence one needs to perform like a deranged circus animal. But today? That education is free. Practice what you see here and I promise them size 14 Bumble girls will never "lmao" at you again. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-] [-10-] [-11-]
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
A baffling assortment of eccentric freaks so confusing out of place, you'll think you're watching the new Scream movie. There's a time and place for everything... except tag teaming a $1,000 dollar Queen's Blade figurine. That's a permanent no from me dawg.
Pork sword bros break the first rule in Ghostbusters 101, clown horn honking gets a new identity and whatever the fuck fight the girl at 1:12 is practicing for is something I feel should be featured on this site in the future. Somebody fetch my finest Walmart polyester linen, I wish to ejaculate.
There's a lot to digest here. But nothing is as concerning as whatever rodeo clown, double-wide uncle sister bullshit is going on around the 3:11 mark. Axe body wash isn't going to clean this feeling off me tonight. Time to dip into the disaster emergency kit.
