A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
Turns out there's literally no shortage in people that consider the piss-soaked alley underneath an active freeway a 5-star romantic experience. So, don't consider today's episode an attack. More like, a celebration of the open-minded. And AIDS.
Door Dash driver allegedly gets bait and switched with the soul sucking knob job of the century. She says there will be no apologies. He can't be contacted for further statements. Uh huh, I know where this is going; Plan for tomorrow, buy Depends today.
I'm getting the impression the lady at the 1:04 mark is no stranger to shotgunning a couple servings of Butthole du Jour after a succulent Chinese meal. But flip a camera on and the nerves clap her trap faster than a the DM's from a Discord moderator. More HERE.
Not since walking into a waffle house at 2:00AM have I seen such disrespect for the lower half of indigenous females. And just like the riot that ended that night, these alphas have no intent of letting $39.00 worth of plastic surgery go to waste.
Say hello to your new role model. His half-cocked baguette has seen more trauma than a Chicago emergency room, yet he's able to completely 180 the loyalty of one of the most bangin girls on the planet. Guess that old saying is true: Don't judge a book until it's deposited $250 into your bank account.
Three years later and it seems [our boy] has ditched the mashed potatoes recipe and moved on to crafting a signature carne asada. ¿Felicidades mi amigo?
Our boy successfully pulls off one of the audibles taught in Bang: More Lays in 60 Days, but the tables quickly turn on him. From then on it's a battle of egos as this greenhorn frolics through her first rear admiral'ing like it's a full body massage. There won't be a sequel.
It's almost like as time passes, society has less than a fuck to give about where they burn the midnight salami. Reminds me of the time I was almost caught defecating in a Blockbuster return box in protest to late fees accumulated on Surf Ninjas. [my balance remains due]
After seeing so many of these situations, sometimes I find myself asking; "Surely this is a planted setup?" I simply refuse to believe anomalies this brazen would be shown less audible disgust than someone being told the McFlurry machine is broken when they get noticed.
Another vigorous pairing of perverted miscreants that would be better suited opening at the Gathering of the Juggalos instead of having freedom of choice in a semi-coherent society.
