The name "Big Bertha" comes from a giant Pre-Nazi German war cannon that would lob 1,800 lb explosive shells into shit like France and Belgium. It also happens to look like this bitches dick.
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.
UPDATE: this girl actually emailed me, here's the background story - she lives in a KKK-laden town where 12 inch black wangs are the forbidden fruit. Undeterred, she sought salvation on blackplanet.com and ultimately bit off more BBC than her vagina could chew.
For fuck sakes, there's only 2 things capable of further emasculating a man that is fantasy-banging his meth head relative. One is knowing you stuck your dick into a family classic, the other is whatever the shit is going on here.
Compliments aren't my strong point, but I must say... chick in the yellow dress is fucking stunning. I'd readily eat Honey Nut Cherrios out of Philip Seymour Hoffman's crusty asshole just for a chance to hold her hand. Someone Russian please hook it up.
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.
Watch as emo Helga Pataki dirty talks Jimmy Noodle Legs during a hot coitus session. Turns out Jenny from Forest Gump isn't the only suicidal girl down for banging immobilized mental midgets.
You've heard that click-farming observation before. But it's never been so accurate after seeing 5 consecutive minutes of the world's most undesirable creatures run wild in their natural habitat. If anything at all proving that Valtrex should be a public company. [MORE]
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.
You can brag about your triple digit IQ all you want bruh. If you're not using it to turn your asshole into a bowl of Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes it's about as useful as a hot shower is to this classic r-word.
Another posse of preoccupied partially sentient protagonists wondering if they could but never questioning if they should. These things would have never happened if they just gave Jeff Goldblum the Oscar.
