Some of you may be asking the question: "How the hell did it take you so long to get something together for [Hannah Hays]? The fuckin story writes itself.". Honestly... it's overwhelming. Her rabbit hole seems to have more alternate endings than Baldur’s Gate 3.
Another glaring example of the power of positivity. Maybe off camera she spends all day yappin like her defenses are impenetrable, but 1 goink to the wrinkled copper slot didn't make her hit windows_shutdown.wav and we should be proud of that. Reminds me of another [future diaper diva].
Another edition featuring triflin' ass hoes, hood rats of all kinds and a singing crack head with erectile problems. They call him Uncle Jim and he can do any unskilled miscellaneous task for the low-low.
If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.
8 examples of why having too much confidence in yourself can be a bad thing. Cringe at them. Subscribe to them if you must. But do not encourage the kind of behavior that results in more disappointments than a trailer park family reunion. The world must heal.
Anybody have the technical name for this phenomenon? or a real explanation? Specifically one that doesn't involve voodoo dolls, Penn & Teller or Planet Wing's suicide sauce. I want answers.
Someone somewhere thought it would be really great to make a 70 minute porn film set in the Victorian era about a guy with a dick for a nose. Today we honor men like that and the amazing master-pieces of shit they produce.
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.
Flattery was never my strong point... and it still isn't. Half the decisions here look like they were made by a person that smokes wet Newports, and yet everyone is chowin down like it's grandma's old fashion applesauce. Your fellow Walmartians will be hearing about this.
Every so often I come across an individual that makes me ask: How much tarantula fucking middle aged misguided trailer park moonshine did they drink before this became a good idea? It's like someone took Rosie O'Donnell and made it harder to see her naked.
I've sat through 8 billion brother fucker storylines, the desecration of an icon and whatever the fuck this is. That being said, it's comforting to know I can still find astonishment in the super weeb fever dream you're about to witness. Good luck.
