It may not be explicitly written in the rule book, but there's only one translation for the body language on the girl going Milli Vanilli on herself. And it exists somewhere in between "Car Batteries Are Not Sex Toys" and "Oops My Asshole Fell Out".
Farted on, finger banged, told he looks like fuckin Robin Williams - this dude endures pain you can't even imagine. Fortunately he's a Sum 41 mosh pit survivor and holds a blackbelt in making Terminator-esque sound effects whilst flailing his arms like a fucking idiot, so it's all good.
Leaking classified information? Mumbling incoherent rants about setting third world countries on fire? Shit, even International Dick Cricket Infestation would have appeared on my list sooner than 1 Tinder gremlin subjecting herself to 31 separate 8-man gangbangs in the fucking barracks. Yet... here we are.
While padding your resume may not be something generally frowned upon when seeking an enhancement in your employment opportunities, safety should always be your first priority. And at least one change of your finest linens. Remember that, Greg.
There's really nothing more emasculating than getting taunted over your sexual inadequacies, save for maybe your mom walking in on you as you spank it to Robin Williams in Jumanji. The point is... Jumanji is a great movie and unfairly disregarded.
Say hello to your new role model. His half-cocked baguette has seen more trauma than a Chicago emergency room, yet he's able to completely 180 the loyalty of one of the most bangin girls on the planet. Guess that old saying is true: Don't judge a book until it's deposited $250 into your bank account.
Shane Diesel the type that gotta stand when he poops or his dick floats in the water. His dick so big he can't even go balls deep on these professional cock smugglers without causing serious internal injuries.
You clicked the original one so many damn times, I had to dive deeper into her discography. Unfortunately it turns out all her roads lead to this evolutionary cul-de-sac using her as the only form of exercise he's seen since Jock Jams was a thing. Don't look that up. [-PART I-]
There's a lot to digest here. But nothing is as concerning as whatever rodeo clown, double-wide uncle sister bullshit is going on around the 3:11 mark. Axe body wash isn't going to clean this feeling off me tonight. Time to dip into the disaster emergency kit.
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
