If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.
This example of why you should periodically review your fiber intake, goes by the name Baby Swabery. Due to her age, I'll be approaching this description accordingly: no cap the jumbo deluxe chimmichanga lunch special was a mf'n mistake, fr the situation is NOT bussin.
You don't have to be a tier-3 to experience this kind of homemade hysteria. Just zero in on the girls that are sexually attracted to Amibos and the yoinked "donations" will flow in faster than you can complain about them on Twitter. [Part I]
Imagine reaching a point in your life where fantasies just aren't doing it for you anymore, so you unleash an even deeper mental illness and create some sort of hybrid, cabbage patch, mother-daughter serial killer, fuck dance home videos and think not hiding your identity is a good idea. This is that point.
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.
There's something truly endearing about a girl that takes the Secret of the Ooze Super Shredder of BBCs, then double downs on being a stable human being. Her talents scream "3 more months of practice and my asshole will out-perform any South American footlocker".
Dog The Bounty Hunter once told me the daywalker is one of, if not the most elusive creature on our planet. Decades of evolution have molded them to be some sort of cockroach/human hybrid. You'd think their survival skills would be S-tier, but all I got out of this was a lower credit score.
