Tripling down on a sub-culture that has defied all odds and normalized paying for content less interesting than giving Betty White 15 unsupervised minutes with a lawn sprinkler. These hype machines never seem to deliver. But the ones that come up really short? These might get a nut or 5 out of you. [PART I] [PART II]
For fuck sakes, these dorks could've thrown a dart at any billboard in Las Vegas and found better ideas to attach to their bodies permanently. I haven't seen people this far out of their comfort zones since the launch of Burger King's ultimate breakfast platter.
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.
This is all but guaranteed to exterminate any story you've been led to believe that everyone in the webcam community is living life on easy mode. Snap back to reality with 5 disasters even FEMA won't pick up your phone calls for.
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
Alright fellas, [-take a memo on your Newton-]: If girls aren't flocking to your Levi's like 1 star reviews to the newest Disney remake, then this might be in your future. Just keep track of those subscription fees so reality doesn't hit harder than 1996 did to Robert Downey Jr.
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.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
Sonuva bitch... dude's packing the kind of penis that can only be described as "an emergency every time I have to take a piss". Time to call up AARP and find out what size wheelbarrow they're willing to cover for this kind of disability. Something in a dual-wheel polycarbon should do it.
It's not even the fact that these fetishes exist. It's that some of these creaturas are banking a yearly salary after swimming through an Arby's dumpster for 3 minutes so Jungle Jack in Frogdick Mississippi can have beat off material for the week. We might not be in end times. But intermission was a long time ago.
