He came packing a mullet, social-awkwardness and the body type/skin tone of a marsh mellow with prescription glasses. But that day back in 1998, he was a hero for 10 minutes at a gentleman's club in Arkansas.
If you're the kind of person that can enjoy peak sigma male behavior, then this is the video for you. I'm talking the kind of blueprint that guy who used to dress up as a latex demon and run into the woods to shove leaves up his ass couldn't follow. (seriously, email me if you remember his name. iykyk) More HERE
That feeling when you realize a backdoor studio in Japan with a $300 makeup budget is closer to the source material of the Resident Evil games than any official movie and whatever the fuck crawled out of Netflix headquarters put together. 2 thumbs up, would Jill off into my sandwich again.
[what you know]: Anyone that's had a TV on after 1:00AM between the years 1997 and 2003 are still trying to get this fucking theme song out of their heads. [what you don't know]: Doug "hobgoblin" Stanhope had the approachability of post-nut clarity Clint Howard. I demand a reboot.
Don't let the plot line(s) fool you. This goofball's bloodline persona is about as real as KFC's employee hand-washing policy. Such as illustrated after her 'brothers' attempt at fucking the hippie out of her. Possibly produced by the Coen brothers.
Sorry to all competing rookies out there trying to cover the Vagisil bill: This is the type of content you need to be producing now. Those glory days of not acting like somebody hooked a lawn mower battery to your fallopian tubes to get attention are over. Devon... get the Flex Tape.
Much like Robocop 1-3, this goes from mildly erotic to fucking horrible pretty darn fast. Tipping point involves a Cambodian that apparently tried to high-five a weed wacker.
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.
Consider this an open letter to the content creators out there: I will donate the $13.75 I made trading Krypto Kittys with down syndrome to a charity of your choosing, in exchange for promising to never use condiments on your wiener ever again. The balls are in your courts.
