I've always enjoyed the finer things in life, namely the Wendy's Cheddar Lover's Bacon cheeseburger, Cuba Gooding Jr. films and watching twats get used up like a Stretch Armstrong doll. Just watch.
Here it is. Round 2 in what is arguably the most offensive thing you can do in public besides mothershipping the handicap stall at Baskin Robbins. But unlike those shit gremlins - these titans of societal norms actually film the entire thing.
It's not like Woodman sending 18 year old girls to the Depends section at Super Walmart is some sort of secret, so one has to question the motives at this point. Is it an act? Are they sadomasochists? And most importantly: If Ronda Rousey were to crowbar her vagina open, would it be comparable to the consistency of pulling apart a peanut butter sandwich?
I don't think that title and/or thumb truly convey the crossover that's about to happen here. But if it costs $50,000 to get an 8 pack of Oscar Mayer's uncured wieners into a female's dung funnel, then life is no longer worth living. Inflation did this.
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.
If there's one thing that never fails to get me questioning the future of this whole human race experiment; it's what the most unassuming person will consider a sexual accessory. So here's about 6 of them. That's right, six. As in the number of times I replayed the noise that Pringles can made when ricocheting off her head.
I think this could be the downtrodden, meth-addicted little brother of the Reading Rainbow guy. They call him Black Salami and he's going to show us things.
Every girl should know that a slippery fuck toy plus a cavernous butthole can equal a trip to the ER. Next time save yourself the embarrassing shuffle through the waiting room and tie a string to that mother fucker.
Irrationally sized flobberweavels, a urethra that's suffered more abuse than whoever the fuck bought Barstool for $500 mil and the recreation of a classic in glorious high(er) definition. Don't think of this as the balanced breakfast you need, think of it as the one you deserve.
Contrary to appearance, leading role in the 2017 cornhole apocalypse was not her specialty. Now that she's retired, you could say her talents were more wasted than season 5 of The Walking Dead. Regrets are temporary. Mike Tyson uppercutting your sphincter in the 3rd round is forever.
