There's really nothing more emasculating than getting taunted over your sexual inadequacies, save for maybe your mom walking in on you as you spank it to Robin Williams in Jumanji. The point is... Jumanji is a great movie and unfairly disregarded.
If any of you ever want to launch one of those "Top 10 Ways to Make a Girl Break up With You" kind of blogs, make sure some of these specimens are on the list. Somewhere in between Fortnite themed flip flops, and listening to Ed Sheeran.
Round #2 in a series that showcases the authentic side of some of our most interesting citizens. I'm not exactly sure what life choices have to be made to end up here, but it probably has something to do with blue checkmarks and whatever they put in those Impossible burgers.
Just scroll to the 4:20 mark for the definitive highlight of this sacrilegious compilation of misguided deviants. Last time I saw self-harm this determined was in a max-coping GME thread on wallstreetbets. And much like his/her ability to hold in a solid, I think it's time to pack it up and admit defeat. disclaimer: This is financial advice [you retard].
Remember that fat crybaby from one of the few episodes of The Maury Show that didn't involve the homeless giving handjobs in exchange for chicken mcnuggets? She had this uncanny ability to make hundreds of bad decisions in a row. Well, it appears she reproduced.
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.
Let me tell ya something champ: I've seen some loathsome shit in my day: Tijuana farm hopping, suggestive photos of Willem Dafoe, and whatever that Ghostbusters reboot was. But this? This made me boil a pot of chamomile tea and tell my dick a bedtime story. [OP]
The upside to being treated like the exhaust pipe of a Chevrolet El Dorado? Literally nothing. All you have to do is breath and the alpha male fantasy fan fiction will magnetize to you like a herpes outbreak at a Playboi Carti concert.
It's all giggles until you hit 5:15. My advice? Be less worried about token counts and more concerned with whatever off-road vehicle ran that thing over and fled the scene. The fuck is going on down there? And more importantly, how many Tremors movies are we up to now?
