Nothing says reinventing a franchise quite like admitting to the world that you have a fetish even the truckers of America aren't paying for in Walmart parking lots. Now give this so many views, The Rock won't be able to turn down being in the sequel.
Nope. Not even giving the participation trophy to the self-sustaining personal human centipede butthole hydration conveyor belt device being demonstrated at the 2:30 mark. It may have made the cut for this compilation... but at what cost?
I've never liked golf... or any sports for that matter. I don't see the point of putting balls in holes for points 'n shit, but when the goals have been replaced with holes, you have earned my attention.
I know what you're thinking... 'Wow, the live action Smurfs movie is looking better than ever.' No, this McPoyles lookalike from Always Sunny with the Spanish word for witch tatted on her stomach is a model... or some shit.
And by experience, I mean one man blowing up his beer money on the kind of sexual endeavor that would shell shock a Vietnam war veteran. Speaking of blowing up: The only thing missing from that slaughter house between her legs is someone in the background screaming wUrLstAr and Floyd Mayweather coming out of retirement to fight it.
The more inbreeding in your bloodline, the further you'll go to seek sexual satisfaction. A simple concept, officially reinforced by whatever director's cut episode of Survivor Man is going on in that last clip. I'll put it this way; in comparison it makes Jeppson's Malort seem like a fucking delicacy. It's that abhorrent.
Imagine making it to the last clip of this degenerate fever dream and still thinking everything's gonna be alright. We are six (or seven) kinds of fucked if this conduct continues. James Sunderland sends his regards. More of Scene 1 [HERE].
First attempts at delivering a beat down in meat town [1:53], a possible Resident Evil 4 cosplay [3:27] and a language barrier so ridiculous I might have to give the girl her own special section on this site in the future. [4:17] If your Tinder profile doesn't have the words butt poosy fuck on it, why even try?
Impressive method acting on his part to be honest. He's got that 'my mother, sister and John Deer push mower are all the same person, so I listen to The Black Eyed Peas on vinyl' look down to a science. Unrelated question: Does gonorrhea cancel itself out if you get it twice? Asking for a friend.
Today's visuals couldn't get better if you slammed an Ambien cocktail and hit the boardwalk wearing nothing but a smile and Walmart's finest body spray. Speaking of New Jersey, not even [-carl-] himself would be caught $7 dollars deep in whatever spawned in the last clip.
You clicked the original one so many damn times, I had to dive deeper into her discography. Unfortunately it turns out all her roads lead to this evolutionary cul-de-sac using her as the only form of exercise he's seen since Jock Jams was a thing. Don't look that up. [-PART I-]
