For fuck sakes, these dorks could've thrown a dart at any billboard in Las Vegas and found better ideas to attach to their bodies permanently. I haven't seen people this far out of their comfort zones since the launch of Burger King's ultimate breakfast platter.
It truly never ends. Let's just label this one the Shawshank Redemption of "wtf, your load tastes like Alan Greenspan's deceased asshole" Alan probably isn't actually dead, but I trust that the implied mental image is still effective. Game on.
Somewhere in the next 4 minutes you may ask yourself: What the fuck led to the creation of this? Amphetamines? Mental illness? An unhealthy addiction to masturbating with a Vitamix Explorian [2:20 mark] I don't know but... another sequel is most definitely in the works. [-PART 1-]
This is essentially a hybrid of THIS video + THIS video, or in more comprehensive terms: 3 parts female empowerment, 141 parts bat-shit fucking retarded. ENJOY.
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.
Sickening. Abhorrent. And honestly? Offensive. Now that we're done reviewing the second season of The Last Of Us, we can watch this. Emmy nominations across the board.
A run of the mill twerking competition is won in an epic land slide when little miss hair extensions makes the guy jizz himself. For her legendary feat Shaquanda is awarded the illustrious title and like fitty bucks.
This girl is ridiculously cute. I want to hold her hand. I want to smell her hair. I want a 3x5 inch cut-out of the computer chair fabric that was blessed with her vaginal discharge. Until then, this gem will have to do.
