If you've ever powered through Fred Durst's 2019 classic "The Fanatic" then nothing will seem out of place. For the other 99.999% of the population: Prepare to be subjected to the kind of cringe Saturday Night Live has been filling their diaper with for the past 2 decades. And tits.
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.
Not since walking into a waffle house at 2 AM have I seen such disrespect for the lower half of a female. And just like the riot that ended that night, the producer of this shit show is not letting $39 worth of dessert cake go to waste.
An assembly of miscreants that may remind you of old Internet when people did everything imaginable for nothing more than access to a bottomless keg. Twitter didn't exist, OnlyFans wasn't a thought. It was just degens on the hunt for their next case of rabid vaginitis. [more]
Don't let the half-assed attempt at blurring out Jackin' Jerry's face fool you; The situation may very well be authentic. Such as illustrated by our power couple having more will to finish the story than Cody Rhodes. English translation possibly done by David Lynch.
Nothing says "the pandemic is over" quite like the uptick in girls increasing their social skank rank by taking their 1-man-band act on the road. Nearly 13 displays of attention-whoring so unprecedented, you'll schedule an STD test just for watching it.
Not really surprising from a girl that calls herself Wisconsin Tiff, but the alternative medicine excuse for this behavior immediately goes out the window. Can't even blame the moon lettuce and it's sibling psychedelics for this digital footprint.
Meet Luciana. aka Timea Bella. aka Indisputable Liar. She claims her stink whistle has less mileage on it than the Peloton in Ozzy Osbourne's basement, yet doesn't even call a timeout when Woody goes straight to the A. But when it comes time to sample some French vanilla, she calls it quits. Stay tuned for part 2 where I'll showcase her triumphant comeback.
Based on a true story about a peanut butter sandwich, the dangers of masturbating, and how Aunt Opal made her nephew a man. A man with issues needing life long therapy, but a man none the less.
