"France has neither winter nor summer nor morals and has usually been governed by prostitutes... apart from these drawbacks it is a fine country." - Mark Twain
Take a culture that considers Rick and Morty comedy, crossbreed them with an addiction to street drugs and this is the result. a.k.a top tier pussy slaying material in the world of Joey-P. Don't agree? Leave feedback on [whatever the fuck he's selling on Amazon] and prove it.
Pretty much a public service announcement on the importance of knowing your limits before inking a deal. Some live to tell the tale. Others, are memed for life. But all have an abnormally intimate relationship with Newport cigarettes and Klonopin before the age of 25.
At this point I'm not even questioning human behavior. The only thing separating all of us from being narrated by David Attenborough, are complicated sneakers and semi-automatic weapons. Turns out the Internet may have been a mistake after all. Parts: [1] [2] [3]
There are 2 kinds of people in this world: Those who respect the human bodies maximum pounds-per-square inch tolerance, and those who do not. Guess which one is getting featured today? HINT: They've never had a flat tire in their life.
I could be in the minority here, but Barnum & Bailey should be kept as far away as possible from any and all sexual situations. If I wanted to be repeatedly violated by a clown, I'd pay for a day trading discord. Pretty amazing body tho. [-RELEVANT-]
A solid plot line can make up for just about anything: Bad acting, low budgets, the marionette scene in Terrifier 2. But this assortment of genetic defects? They've got digital footprints like Tom Cruise has regressive Aspergers, and I don't know when this fucking ride is gonna end.
So, who's really to blame here? The horse farm that secured their perimeter to keep her away from the livestock, or the guy with 4 Q's in his name that's keeping her on a 1-token drip for the past 4 hours?
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
