Darrell spent a year talking his wife Nikki into giving swinging a shot. She finally gives in and it does not go to plan. To add insult to injury, the whole humiliating ordeal is captured forever in some shitty pseudo-documentary.
Today is my old man yells at cloud moment as I inform you that a two foot garden gnome being yoinked out of a woman's lower digestive system makes me feel like the golden age of adult entertainment is long behind us. They truly just don't make them like they used to. It's over.
From his vantage point it probably looks like someone trying to squeeze a flag pole into a gas tank. And much like after someone messes around with flammable substances, someone probably saw hospital time after this little adventure.
Around the 1:50 mark she denies a handful of the colonel's secret recipe. Uh uh. If that's her idea of cutting back on carbs, I'd love to know how she celebrates Thanksgiving. But the real question is: How many 2-for-1 Golden Corral coupons does it take to make this transaction possible?
This is ridiculous. Not 'haha-ridiculous' like a slab of society identifying as non-binary lesbian toaster strudel. Dude has zero reaction to strangers stuffing his girl like a Walmart ham, and here I am just waiting for David Attenborough's explanation as to why.
If the first chick doesn't have the look of a girl that's admitted to losing her virginity to a mailbox, I don't know what is. A moment that was probably about as unintentional as me using Cowabunga Bay Water's wave pool as my own personal porta potty. Apologies to visitors between years of 1998 - 2013.
Desperate for attention and not afraid of having their pork chops on the Internet forever. If these aren't the quintessential for the independent woman of 2023, I don't wanna know what is. Now ladies, make sure to save that OF cash. The Valtrex isn't going to overnight itself.
What happens when you let your BBC-obsessed husband talk you into the kind of Smackdown WWE would be jealous of? Here's a hint: You end up booking a legendary Iron Man match, but there's no winner.
It may not be explicitly written in the rule book, but there's only one translation for the body language on the girl going Milli Vanilli on herself. And it exists somewhere in between "Car Batteries Are Not Sex Toys" and "Oops My Asshole Fell Out".
Scene's over and it's time to go home... but first this starlet has a complete mental unraveling. Her tears and plight do little more than generate awkward lulz and kill the mood for the next girl.
