Maybe you've already seen the clip at 2:00. It seems to have spread across the Internet faster than gonorrhea during Burning Man weekend. But the rest is definitely worth a spot amongst your 36 hour doom scroll. More public shame[ing] [here]
It's all giggles until you hit 5:15. My advice? Be less worried about token counts and more concerned with whatever off-road vehicle ran that thing over and fled the scene. The fuck is going on down there? And more importantly, how many Tremors movies are we up to now?
There's a thin line between trailer park erotica, and soul-deep emotional trauma. Where that line exists I don't know... but judging by the amount of dollar store tattoos I'm seeing on that body, I'd say this human Hindenburg sure as fuck does.
Respect to the second girl [0:22 second mark] for being naturally gifted the amount of lip filler that could inflate the tire of a corn harvester, just injected into the wrong part of the body. It's anomalies like her that take these kinds of videos from "entertaining" to "autistic".
The strange tale of how an alleged rapist wife beater got his penis severed and became a porn star. John Wayne Bobbitt has suffered every man's worst nightmare and accomplished most guy's wildest dream. [FULL STORY]
Local vagrant takes us on a journey that blurs the line between southern cooking and female independence, as illustrated by a sex act that's led to more infections than a Marilyn Manson concert. Never before has adult entertainment made me prouder of my KFC rewards points.
Our newest philanthropist has officially crossed the line into perverse territory. Not even his predecessors can claim they've pushed their love of charity this far before. Take 2 showers tonight. Just in case. [ PART I ]
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
Classic cases of unbridled overconfidence. If only these creatures put as much effort into velcroing their crotches shut in public, as they did into experimenting with pain medications: Then maybe these permanent marks on their resumes could have been avoided. Yikes and gadzooks.
