The 70's were a special time in history where no one gave a fuck. Smoking in hospitals, untamed pubes, sexually harassing midgets at the workplace, and faking a cum shot with a limp penis and shampoo? No problem. Nothing was sacred.
Today's Menu: 1) Conor McGregor post-retirement 2) Ballin on a Budget 3) Hard Times Daddeh 4) The Mastadon Challenge 5) Contents Under Pressure 6) Always Get Your Moneys Worth
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.
Just what in the fucking Doogie Howser, M.D. are we witnessing here? I'd give him the big W for going the distance... but no amount of THOT slaying in the world is going to change the unfortunate genetic make up of that boogie board he calls a body. Congrats?
Were you also gifted the sexual prowess of a polar bear on methamphetamines at birth? Well that only leaves 1 path for you to take in life. So if you share this lady's disposition, consider alternatives to Tinder. I'm thinking Farmersonly, without the farmers. Feel me?
This is ridiculous. Not 'haha-ridiculous' like a slab of society identifying as non-binary lesbian toaster strudel. Dude has zero reaction to strangers stuffing his girl like a Walmart ham, and here I am just waiting for David Attenborough's explanation as to why.
Scene's over and it's time to go home... but first this starlet has a complete mental unraveling. Her tears and plight do little more than generate awkward lulz and kill the mood for the next girl.
Another posse of preoccupied partially sentient protagonists wondering if they could but never questioning if they should. These things would have never happened if they just gave Jeff Goldblum the Oscar.
