AKA "how to ruin your reputation on a global scale." Usually it's a good thing if everyone gets laid at a party... but not when they all fucked the same chubby std collector.
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
"Every choice comes with a consequence. Once you make a choice, you must accept responsibility. You cant escape the consequences of your choices, whether you like them or not, no matter how deep the rabbit hole goes." - Roy T. Bennett
For a minute there I was starting to lose faith in degenerate white guy's ability to keep me entertained. Then I was introduced to a fetish with more questions than Sylvester Stallone's medicine cabinet.
The insane story of an emotionally disabled prostitute/pornstar/sugar baby/urinal-for-hire with HPV and herpes that literally wrote the book - 9 times. She claims her dead sugar daddy made her a millionaire and now haunts her... wow.
There's a lot to digest here. But nothing is as concerning as whatever rodeo clown, double-wide uncle sister bullshit is going on around the 3:11 mark. Axe body wash isn't going to clean this feeling off me tonight. Time to dip into the disaster emergency kit.
This girl is ridiculously cute. I want to hold her hand. I want to smell her hair. I want a 3x5 inch cut-out of the computer chair fabric that was blessed with her vaginal discharge. Until then, this gem will have to do.
Admittedly the carb walrus she's costarring with may have her beat in the embarrassment department, but she's not far behind in this race. If anything at all for offsetting what may be the greatest set of natural tits ever documented by having the face of Jaden Smith. It can not be unseen.
That's it man. As far as I'm concerned vegans have officially jumped the plant-based shark. Not even at the height of one of my patented Acid Trip + Red Lobster Biscuit wombo combo benders did I envision something as despicable as this going behind a paywall.
Honestly this one could have rolled credits right after Donatello got his tits greased with tomato sauce and you'd still have an unwanted memory to try eradicating for the foreseeable future. But where's the fun in that?
