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.
Apparently Clayton Bigsby has an extended bloodline we were completely unaware of. Practice what you're about to see here & I promise - those pesky NPC'S will never scream "racism" again.
Tori Spelling's Guatemalan tit job, the hole in a Walmart bathroom stall and discounted Hamburger Helper on Craigslist: Three things I'd touch before signing up for story time from Rebel "my brain is bigger than my butthole" Lynn ever fucking again.
These porn producers, always so preoccupied with if they could, but never stopping to wonder if they should. I can't even imagine how awkward this scene must of been to film for everyone involved.
Some women require foreplay to get off. Others, Little Caesars 5 for $5.00. And then there's Jessica Carrboro aka The Crotch Vampire, who takes no less than a scoop of organic strawberry swirl to get moist. I say this with complete sincerity: You're not ready for her.
At first I thought the same as you; What Tim Burton movie did Ice Spice crawl ass backwards out of? Immediately followed by wondering why Sofa "diapers at 23" Weber would subject her own flesh and blood to the [first] dirty donut bulldozing we saw. Evolution is a mystery.
The farther below the equator you go, the crazier behavior you'll find. A novel concept, and one that's officially reinforced by the pair of donut glazers walking the streets like it's fucking fashion week. Just being an observer might give you Hep-C.
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.
Only 30% of these genetic anomalies come from Japan. The rest? Homegrown in the ole' U S of A. They could be your neighbors, your mailmen, even the friend you pay in Wendy's frosty coupons to perform the pittsburgh coal miner. Either way, they are among us.
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.
