Shaft and Gilligan combine forces for the greater good - to quite literally fuck the pudding pop out of a $7.25 Tijuana hooker. And this my friends is why cheap motels always use floral bedding - it's essentially camouflage for shit stains.
The real hero of today's adventure should be whatever surgeon sews that bag of expired beef back together in the last clip. It seems learning how to be a boxer through YouTube videos with a language barrier has consequences. More [here]
Today's lessons: Little Dicky is a literal name (4:21), Tourism is still alive and well (0:11) and statistically speaking, this is the least likely way to acquire an STD in public. Trust me, I've seen 3 full episodes of House M.D.
Sickening. Abhorrent. And honestly? Offensive. Now that we're done reviewing the second season of The Last Of Us, we can watch this. Emmy nominations across the board.
Who the fuck comes up with these hybrid fetish flicks? Next time you producers want to get creative, how about coating a machete in Zoloft and fucking Logan Paul up the cornholio until he's smiling like Matt Damon on the cover of Good Will Hunting? Google it.
I can't imagine what life decisions lead to your obituary being littered with the words "twerking" and "public nuisance" and "30,000 volts". But I'm betting it involves the neighbor's parakeet, and all 16 delicious flavors of Rice-a-Roni. (fuck you Rice Pilaf)
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
A proud self-identified "throat goat" with self-destructive blowjob skills attempts total sexual suicide via co-stars penis. I like this bitch, she's fucking crazy.
If you thought we were going to make it through 3 volumes of woman decorating their reproductive systems with everything that isn't bolted down at Home Goods, and not get a single appearance by the only pornstar that could land a Dyson sponsorship; you thought wrong. And quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed. Also RIP Rowdy Piper.
After popping a molly (or 5) and getting fucked with a lawn chair, this girl realizes her dreams of being on worldstar are within grasp and totally goes for it. IMHO not worth the lifetime of shame without curly fries and roast beef.
idk, seems pretty predictable to me. Once the enchantment of a $200 payday and living their monthly YOLO moments has worn off, anxiety and regret should be expected. But shoutouts to wish.com for making these precious memories possible.
