hmm, strange. Here I am thinking the whole "i'm training to turn my uterus into a parking garage for hellcats" was no longer a lucrative financial path worth pursuing. And then the last girl went ahead proved me wrong.
LIFE LESSON #27: If you have worse rectal control than one of the golden girls; seek out another hobby. Last time I saw someone pay for skidmarking this abusive he was ultimately banned from Chipotle at the corporate level. (me, it was me) [song]
After seeing so many of these situations, sometimes I find myself asking; "Surely this is a planted setup?" I simply refuse to believe anomalies this brazen would be shown less audible disgust than someone being told the McFlurry machine is broken when they get noticed.
Poor prosti gets sandbagged by a local gentleman who's only sexual experience involves Walmart's checkout line & Colt 45. But apparently her dugout is built for the major leagues, cause despite his John McLane ingenuity... she still walks away with a smile. Fucking amazing.
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.
Nothing quite spells EFUKT like a supposed 'Navy Seal' turned male pornstar challenging 80+ CSUN students to a backyard brawl, whilst completely naked and armed with nothing but a slowly deflating boner. HAHA.
Long before there was "help me stepbro!", there was "have you ever seen your mom naked?". The difference? People wouldn't (normally) contaminate a box of Kleenex's finest to radio shows. Social media was and still is our biggest evolutionary mistake.
First time I've seen a wife rental video where the girl and her hired gun are left more humiliated than the husband. 7 1/2 inches of New Orlean's finest essentially left them completely mute, save for some sobbing that is usually reserved for the customer service desk at Lululemon. Hilarious.
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.
At this point I'm not even questioning human behavior. The only thing separating all of us from being narrated by David Attenborough, are complicated sneakers and semi-automatic weapons. Turns out the Internet may have been a mistake after all. Parts: [1] [2] [3]
