Flattery was never my strong point... and it still isn't. Half the decisions here look like they were made by a person that smokes wet Newports, and yet everyone is chowin down like it's grandma's old fashion applesauce. Your fellow Walmartians will be hearing about this.
Door Dash your chimichangas and fire up the Demi Lovato playlist, for you are about to witness the pinnacle of peak male performance. Not since the 2017 inauguration have I heard this many vegan-powered war cries go unanswered lol
Pork sword bros break the first rule in Ghostbusters 101, clown horn honking gets a new identity and whatever the fuck fight the girl at 1:12 is practicing for is something I feel should be featured on this site in the future. Somebody fetch my finest Walmart polyester linen, I wish to ejaculate.
I've sat through 8 billion brother fucker storylines, the desecration of an icon and whatever the fuck this is. That being said, it's comforting to know I can still find astonishment in the super weeb fever dream you're about to witness. Good luck.
A baffling assortment of eccentric freaks so confusing out of place, you'll think you're watching the new Scream movie. There's a time and place for everything... except tag teaming a $1,000 dollar Queen's Blade figurine. That's a permanent no from me dawg.
[what you know]: Anyone that's had a TV on after 1:00AM between the years 1997 and 2003 are still trying to get this fucking theme song out of their heads. [what you don't know]: Doug "hobgoblin" Stanhope had the approachability of post-nut clarity Clint Howard. I demand a reboot.
Imagine reaching a point in your life where fantasies just aren't doing it for you anymore, so you unleash an even deeper mental illness and create some sort of hybrid, cabbage patch fuck dance home videos and think not hiding your identity is a good idea. This is that point.
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.
You know at one point in time her dirt tulip at full pucker was still smaller than the cock of an Eskimo in January. I want to know where that footage is. And more importantly, the followup video of John McAfee announcing her as his running mate for 2020?
Today we're rounding third on a baker's dozens worth of boner-deflating cringe collections so bleak, you'll wonder what the point of sexual intercourse even is anymore. Just load up one of those Choose Your Own Adventure Hentai VR fantasies, and fuck the Hamtaros out of a face-swapped Charizard until you feel alive again.
Bridge piercing, stomach tattoos and the occasional rush to the emergency room for soft tissue damage. May I be so bold to say I haven't seen this level of intensity since The Shining.
