Trying to convince your wife to participate in what can only be described as gathering of the juggalos that serves pasta salad? Bold. But her response? Giggling like she found an extra tender in her 4-piece. Relationships shlamationships.
A solid plot line can make up for just about anything: Bad acting, low budgets, the marionette scene in Terrifier 2. But this assortment of genetic defects? They've got digital footprints like Tom Cruise has regressive Aspergers, and I don't know when this fucking ride is gonna end.
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.
Many a question will arise while shuffling through this one, but none more important than whatever comes out of your mouth around the 3:30 mark. Don't worry, you're not alone. I don't fucking know either.
Did flashing interns at the local 7-11 becoming a challenge or something? Apparently this miscreant prefers the orifices less traveled. Specifically the ones small enough to give Tiger Woods anxiety attacks. C-L-A-S-S-Y.
Some "feels" I am glad I will never experience in life. Driving the speed limit, menstrual cramps, bamboo fingernail torture, or when a unlubed and unwelcome penis randomly kicks open the door to the house of pain.
A disgruntled pornstar is having a bad day, and everything that comes out of this thot's mouth is either penis related or comedy gold. She non-stop says crazy shit until her co-stars feel forced to shut her up.
Farted on, finger banged, told he looks like fuckin Robin Williams - this dude endures pain you can't even imagine. Fortunately he's a Sum 41 mosh pit survivor and holds a blackbelt in making Terminator-esque sound effects whilst flailing his arms like a fucking idiot, so it's all good.
Every so often I come across an individual that makes me ask: How much tarantula fucking middle aged misguided trailer park moonshine did they drink before this became a good idea? It's like someone took Rosie O'Donnell and made it harder to see her naked.
Many, many years ago, in the days of old known as 1997, an instructional VHS was forged. Watch and learn how to master the art of one handed typing with post-aspergers Winnie Cooper from the "Wonder Years".
4 out of 5 physicians would advise against this kind of behavior, especially in public venues. But a life of chronic digestive and reproductive complications doesn't really seem to concern these prodigies. Big risks = more clout. And more clout = more fashionably retarded short form content.
