A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
You can brag about your male pattern baldness all you want homeboy. But if you're not turning all vaginas within a 3 mile distance into your own personal bowl of Hungry Jack Mashed Potatoes, are you even living the Costanza?
I cant even imagine how many jackoff sessions came to a halt after this saggy-assed dinosaur stepped in front of the camera. How the fuck are you supposed to beat off when 50% of the screen is devoted to the puckering balloon knot of a gay porn veteran? Honestly...
