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.
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.
All kinds of fucking disturbance going on here, but the girl hyper gooning next to the 3rd editions of Goosebumps soft covers should probably get an award or an all-expenses paid trip to the Vagisil aisle at her local RiteAid or something. Those carpets look filthy.
The name "Big Bertha" comes from a giant Pre-Nazi German war cannon that would lob 1,800 lb explosive shells into shit like France and Belgium. It also happens to look like this bitches dick.
Aim for dry ground and let 'er rip. That's been the formula for centuries... until Krystal "i have standards" Steal showed up. You see, she has more apathy for body fluids than Paula Deen has for low fat potato chippies. Ever wonder what it would be like if KFC had an all-you-can-eat buffet? That's the kind of 'sounds fun but always ends bad' disappointment I'm talking about here.
Without looking up their robust discography, I'm going to say there's at least a 275% chance Insane Clown Posse wrote a song about this. Over/under anyone?
Don't let the half-assed attempt at blurring out Jackin' Jerry's face fool you; The situation may very well be authentic. Such as illustrated by our power couple having more will to finish the story than Cody Rhodes. English translation possibly done by David Lynch.
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.
My gut instinct tells me the era of slasher movies is dead when the practical effects guys start taking on jobs like this. The Friday the 13th reboot was bad. Cult of Chucky sucked. The new Halloween might work... but nothing can prepare you for this alternate ending to Fire in the Sky.
Great box. Decent tits. But fall into whatever wet dream they paid her $47.00 to roleplay in here and you'll be left with a ball bag more shriveled than Iggy Pop. It's a sexual combination that doesn't seem to concern these freaks. Big Cringe = Big Dollas. And Big Dollas = Unlimited Crest White Strips. You'll see.
