I want to admire their passion, but the Jurassic Park remake around the 0:40 second mark is in severe danger of receiving a cease and desist. Discover more reasons to keep that $19.99 in your pocket every month [-HERE-].
If you thought we were going to make it through 3 volumes of woman decorating their reproductive systems with everything that isn't bolted down at Home Goods, and not get a single appearance by the only pornstar that could land a Dyson sponsorship; you thought wrong. And quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed. Also RIP Rowdy Piper.
I've seen a lot of people do a lot of repulsive shit just to keep their rent paid. But whatever backyard bangcock bumblefuck blownout butthole bullshit is going on in the last clip? That's a level of holistic hemorrhoidal care I hope to never see IRL. Discuss your disgust [-HERE-]
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.
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.
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
UPDATE: this girl actually emailed me, here's the background story - she lives in a KKK-laden town where 12 inch black wangs are the forbidden fruit. Undeterred, she sought salvation on blackplanet.com and ultimately bit off more BBC than her vagina could chew.
It's not even the fact that these fetishes exist. It's that some of these creaturas are banking a yearly salary after swimming through an Arby's dumpster for 3 minutes so Jungle Jack in Frogdick Mississippi can have beat off material for the week. We might not be in end times. But intermission was a long time ago.
Alright fellas, [-take a memo on your Newton-]: If girls aren't flocking to your Levi's like 1 star reviews to the newest Disney remake, then this might be in your future. Just keep track of those subscription fees so reality doesn't hit harder than 1996 did to Robert Downey Jr.
7 samples into a hot dog warming party goes horribly wrong when one rogue cowboy says fuck all to the rules and slings his gentleman juice around like he's in the handicap stall at Country Buffet. The result is a crash course on Plan-B and why IQ tests need to be mandatory in porn. [More Here]
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.
