So, this is the new standard for getting attention? Terrorizing unsuspecting civilians with your prescription flavored genitals and "oopsy'ing" ur way through milk toast sexual acts? Points for the self-awareness though. It adds a little depth to my upcoming biography aptly named: Sex, Drugs & Brain Damage
idk where this the majority of these are happening, but try that in the US of A and the situation will be immediately amplified by a guy 1 Michelob Ultra away from a public rampage. That's not a warning, it's a spoiler. Never underestimate a man with garbage bags full of [this shit] in his crawl space.
Honestly, I'm shocked. And by shocked I mean quietly contemplating how much longer it will take social media to completely remove all empathetic reasoning from the human genome. Direct all body fluids accordingly. More [here]
Sorry to all competing rookies out there trying to cover the Vagisil bill: This is the type of content you need to be producing now. Those glory days of not acting like somebody hooked a lawn mower battery to your fallopian tubes to get attention are over. Devon... get the Flex Tape.
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.
"If you're caught, DON'T STOP!" That's not a direct quote, and it probably shouldn't be. Especially for that broken fire hydrant seasoning the corner table at Smash Burger around the 5:00 mark. Just what in the fuck...
Short of being an extra on Rocco's Retirement Village Tour (coming 2035) I'm not sure how these talents come in handy. Never knowing the feels of a consensual relationship maybe? An existence without having to shop for birthday gifts? idk man
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
You know that feeling: When it's 0600 hours, the sun is shining, and you find yourself 4-inches deep inside the only girl that believed your story about using the same plumber as Zac Efron. In other words: Perfection. That is, unless Lucya "The Wolverine" Chernyshevsky is leader of the neighborhood watch.
Today's edition is chock full of bladder busters, flagrant neighbor abuse and whatever that vegan dinner special was at the end. But what really activated my garbanzo bean is the length some of these fucking gargoyles are willing to go. Take notes ladies: It's this kind of work ethic that transforms you from super walmart to super star.
Maybe you've already seen the clip at 2:00. It seems to have spread across the Internet faster than gonorrhea during Burning Man weekend. But the rest is definitely worth a spot amongst your 36 hour doom scroll. More public shame[ing] [here]
The best part of having less shame than the 2000 Spanish Paralympics Basketball team? Walking around half mast during lunch hours is no longer for the unsuspecting Chinese delivery man to enjoy alone. That last dude clearing two floors and sprinting half naked though? The girl cheating must've had grip harder than Gollum at Mount Doom.
