Only 1 thing compliments the relaxed feel of a holiday weekend - And that's getting more rash on your crotch from a guy you salad-tossed than the toilet in a Portuguese farmhouse. And to those inbreds in the last clip: End the bloodline here. This never needs to happen again.
We as humans are at the fuckin' highest point of civilization we've ever achieved. Our technology is more advanced than ever before in history and recently, we put a dildo in orbit... Welcome to the new age.
What's mine is yours. And what's yours makes her think walking away from that 4-year degree in Anthropological Gender Studies of Amazonian Tree Frogs to do this instead was a bad idea.
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.
Want hard proof that humans are still all about charity? Look no further friendos. This scumcunt offers some locals the ultimate handout: A free reminder to get yourself STD tested next time you go reaching for those frozen Reese's Cups. You can find her new profile HERE.
Nope. Not even giving the participation trophy to the self-sustaining personal human centipede butthole hydration conveyor belt device being demonstrated at the 2:30 mark. It may have made the cut for this compilation... but at what cost?
You don't have to be a tier-3 to experience this kind of homemade hysteria. Just zero in on the girls that are sexually attracted to Amibos and the yoinked "donations" will flow in faster than you can complain about them on Twitter. [Part I]
2004: Facebook launches for the first time, Ashlee Simpson jigged her way into irrelevancy and this jovial mother fucker was using his power of aspergers to give second stringers a reason to show up on set. Half girth, half Pokemon.
11 Seconds: That's the average time it takes for one family-sized order of Chang's Orange Chicken to kick flip it's way out of my body and make it's way back to the manure farm. It's also the amount of time it takes the new poster girl for "LOLIDGAF" to get the official Efukt seal of approval. You're welcome.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
