Hey maybe this is your thing, and so be it if it is. I just want to make sure we're all on the same page when it comes to buying modern day remakes and how they should involve as many bodily fluids as possible. Always shop smart. Shop S-Mart.
I can't imagine what life decisions lead to your obituary being littered with the words "twerking" and "public nuisance" and "30,000 volts". But I'm betting it involves the neighbor's parakeet, and all 16 delicious flavors of Rice-a-Roni. (fuck you Rice Pilaf)
If you thought we were going to make it through 3 volumes of woman decorating their reproductive systems with everything that isn't bolted down at Home Goods, and not get a single appearance by the only pornstar that could land a Dyson sponsorship; you thought wrong. And quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed. Also RIP Rowdy Piper.
Here it is: The grand finale in a long line of degenerates who value their integrity less than that chicken sandwich everyone is getting german suplexed over. Especially the last clip. I haven't seen determination like that since the Epstein Didn't Kill Himself meme.
4 out of 5 physicians would advise against this kind of behavior, especially in public venues. But a life of chronic digestive and reproductive complications doesn't really seem to concern these prodigies. Big risks = more clout. And more clout = more fashionably retarded short form content.
A day that lived in infamy amongst the delivery driver community has finally been given credence from the mouth/vaginal opening that participated in the fabled event. Now imagine a modern version with a hint of [double dashing]. [4] heads would roll. [more here]
For these ground breaking philanthropists, it's about destroying societal norms. Climb that mountain and nothing shall come between your communal oral cavity and legendary status. Save for a viral outbreak or four.
Pigs flying, A Manson Family Hanukkah special and clean underwear after all-you-can-eat Chinese food. These are all things I expected to see long before a man that has mastered the art of hands-free ejacs. Next time do it into the palm of a guy named Carlos. It's called the Puerto Rican Panhandle, I invented it.
Who the fuck comes up with these hybrid fetish flicks? Next time you producers want to get creative, how about coating a machete in Zoloft and fucking Logan Paul up the cornholio until he's smiling like Matt Damon on the cover of Good Will Hunting? Google it.
"I'll tell ya one thing about my personal life that I've never told before. I never fucked a ten, but one night, I fucked five twos. And I think that ought to count. I think that ought to go in your record as a positive achievement." - George Carlin
