If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
The insane story of an emotionally disabled prostitute/pornstar/sugar baby/urinal-for-hire with HPV and herpes that literally wrote the book - 9 times. She claims her dead sugar daddy made her a millionaire and now haunts her... wow.
All kinds of fucking disturbance going on here, but the girl hyper gooning next to the 3rd editions of Goosebumps soft covers should probably get an award or an all-expenses paid trip to the Vagisil aisle at her local RiteAid or something. Those carpets look filthy.
You ever show up for the orgy but just jerk off by yourself? Or have you ever managed to be cringier than a wannabe white rapper with a pick in his ginger afro? Yea... me either. YAY!
They've been hauling 10 tons of Chinese door frames across the country for about 8 hours straight and the nicest thing these guys have seen so far is Esther from IHOP. So, I can't really blame them much for their behavior.
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.
That first girl is something special. Her reactions may normally be mistaken for being on the wet end of a crypto rug pull or your proctologist reaching for spicy mayo instead of an authorized lubricant but trust me, this is something totally different. (Autism. It's autism.)
