The farther below the equator you go, the crazier behavior you'll find. A novel concept, and one that's officially reinforced by the pair of donut glazers walking the streets like it's fucking fashion week. Just being an observer might give you Hep-C.
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.
The unwritten rules of the practicing beta male? #1 Backseating anything related to a bench press #2 Look as much like [JROC] as humanly possible #3 Have the endurance of a geriatric koala. Our boy is batting 3 for 3.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
This is all but guaranteed to eradicate any story you may have been led to believe about how hard it is to interact with an established pornstar. Now the countdown begins until the protein-maxing gym bros discover this one simple trick.
Well shit, the only other time I've seen someone this determined to self-harm was browsing the /terraluna subreddit. And much like her inability to pass a gonorrhea test, I think it might be time to pack it up and find a safer hobby. Like collecting Pokemon cards, or building hydrogen bombs for example.
