Sorry to all competing rookies out there trying to cover the Vagisil bill: This is the type of content you need to be producing now. Those glory days of not acting like somebody hooked a lawn mower battery to your fallopian tubes to get attention are over. Devon... get the Flex Tape.
I've seen some detestable shit during my tenure on the Internet. Hungarian equine mating rituals. 3 minutes of Concord gameplay footage. People thinking a P.T. Cruiser has resale value. But this? This confirmed the whole human race experiment failed.
My first pay-to-play happened in a Burger King toilet stall. She was more Kurt Perry than Katy Perry, Kinda foul. Not even a triple replay of Heather Graham's bush in Boogie Nights changed the mood that night. But... if I had this guy's attitude? Life... life would be different.
Getting your meat bag blown out within shouting distance of a stranger's apartment is a bold move. One of superiority tbh. Nancy and her 19 cats will think twice about filing a noise complaint when this lands in her inbox.
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
Some "feels" I am glad I will never experience in life. Driving the speed limit, menstrual cramps, bamboo fingernail torture, or when a unlubed and unwelcome penis randomly kicks open the door to the house of pain.
Time to get acquainted with another horde of beatniks that have managed to monetize the kind of performances that once only existed behind the locked doors of a Berlin basement. Big points for that Mitzuwana breakdancing at the 6:12 mark though. Should have taken home Paris gold. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-]
Inflation is nearing 9% and you're burning through c-notes so you can Rube Goldberg machine your way into the Guinness Book of Degenerate Orgasms? Someone send this to Dave Ramsey, I want to see him shit his economically priced pants.
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
8 examples of why having too much confidence in yourself can be a bad thing. Cringe at them. Subscribe to them if you must. But do not encourage the kind of behavior that results in more disappointments than a trailer park family reunion. The world must heal.
