There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
Meet Luciana. aka Timea Bella. aka Indisputable Liar. She claims her stink whistle has less mileage on it than the Peloton in Ozzy Osbourne's basement, yet doesn't even call a timeout when Woody goes straight to the A. But when it comes time to sample some French vanilla, she calls it quits. Stay tuned for part 2 where I'll showcase her triumphant comeback.
Nope. Not even giving the participation trophy to the self-sustaining personal human centipede butthole hydration conveyor belt device being demonstrated at the 2:30 mark. It may have made the cut for this compilation... but at what cost?
At this point I'm not even questioning human behavior. The only thing separating all of us from being narrated by David Attenborough, are complicated sneakers and semi-automatic weapons. Turns out the Internet may have been a mistake after all. Parts: [1] [2] [3]
Brain damage, simping epidemic, mental patient that smells like mashed potatoes: You degenerates can label this video with whatever tags you want. Nothing can stop true romance.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
Let me tell ya something champ: I've seen some loathsome shit in my day: Tijuana farm hopping, suggestive photos of Willem Dafoe, and whatever that Ghostbusters reboot was. But this? This made me boil a pot of chamomile tea and tell my dick a bedtime story. [OP]
Take a culture that considers Rick and Morty comedy, crossbreed them with an addiction to street drugs and this is the result. a.k.a top tier pussy slaying material in the world of Joey-P. Don't agree? Leave feedback on [whatever the fuck he's selling on Amazon] and prove it.
Prozac-deficient e-girls are a welcomed sight here at eFukt... but this post isn't about the daddy issues. It's about intensity. These temper tantrums cut deeper than a Twitter feed, and while that might not be saying much, I'm confident you'll be impressed.
Don't let the Twitch staff wardrobe and lack of muscle fiber fool you: This army of limp-wristed, mouth-breathing fun-seekers have reached their breaking point and shit just hit the fan water-cooled RTX 3080. Consider this a warning to all women that can fit in a rowboat.
