This is essentially a hybrid of THIS video + THIS video, or in more comprehensive terms: 3 parts female empowerment, 141 parts bat-shit fucking retarded. ENJOY.
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
Impressive method acting on his part to be honest. He's got that 'my mother, sister and John Deer push mower are all the same person, so I listen to The Black Eyed Peas on vinyl' look down to a science. Unrelated question: Does gonorrhea cancel itself out if you get it twice? Asking for a friend.
If you've ever powered through Fred Durst's 2019 classic "The Fanatic" then nothing will seem out of place. For the other 99.999% of the population: Prepare to be subjected to the kind of cringe Saturday Night Live has been filling their diaper with for the past 2 decades. And tits.
If you think that number is talking about hog dimensions, you will be sorely mistaken. It seems this attraction has stricter height limitations than Six Flag's El Toro. You gotta measure less than 4 feet tall, well-versed in THOTology and be next in line for a fight with Jake Paul. Brutal. Part 1 [HERE] Part 2 [HERE] Support [HERE]
Here it is; A collection of bros that last about as long as I do during a Marvel film released after End Game. Normally these misfits would be thrown into the compost pile and forgotten, but these speedruns need to be seen to be believed.
Meet Scott Taylor. Today Scott is a well respected porn mogul, but that wasn't always the case. Flashback to the glory years of 1985 and witness the Billy Mays of penis pump salesmen.
To call this girl a boring bang would be the understatement of the damn millennium. I'll put it this way: If you combined a gender studies course with the PGA, you'd still need a 3 hour Al Gore audio book and jumper cables to match pulses with this fucking corpse. You've been warned.
hmm, strange. Here I am thinking the whole "i'm training to turn my uterus into a parking garage for hellcats" was no longer a lucrative financial path worth pursuing. And then the last girl went ahead proved me wrong.
I'm no expert, but we may be reaching ultra critical levels of unforgivable shamelessness here. Or as the Italians used to call it; "Exterminus Adversus Slutterdominous". Now call your parents and tell them what you learned today.
