Dude at the 2:00 mark must have went as Apocolypto for Halloween in 2006 and forgot to take the costume off, and I have no doubt our Scottish socialite's rectal contractions look like they just graduated a course in sign language. Go ahead and tell me nice guys actually do win again?
One of those rare moments where I can overlook the obvious health code violations because the performance is legendary. Be sure to leave them a ★★★★★ Yelp review. Something along the lines of: Service was fast. Getting pubic lice was faster.
Breaking traditional workout regimes, NASA-sponsored ejaculations and Skynet inching ever closer to harvesting our organs through the channel of A.I. powered sex transformers. If the next 8 minutes doesn't shine a more positive light on your life, nothing will. I'm here to help.
Our boy is having domicile problems of the synthetic drug variety, and it's fucking up his after-work Roblox clan war. The charges? Breaking and entering, aggravated harassment, disorderly conduct and skidmarking Target's finest bedroom linen. Tensions rise, police are called, I laugh. Pretty funny shit.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
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.
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.
Pretty much the most perplexing acts of genital manipulation I've witnessed since marathoning all 47 volumes of SSBBW Ivy and Friends Videos. My voice matters today more than ever before.
Over the course of 15 years, I've tried saving the word epic for oddities that truly work for the definition. And let me tell you friends: If an emotional beat down of a daddy-issued ketamine-lifer doesn't earn it, the 4-inch race-rampage in the final act will lol.
You can brag about your male pattern baldness all you want homeboy. But if you're not turning all vaginas within a 3 mile distance into your own personal bowl of Hungry Jack Mashed Potatoes, are you even living the Costanza?
