Of all the ways to "tELL mE uR fRoM nEw jErSeY wiThOuT tELLinG mE uR fRoM nEw jErsEy" this actually ranks #2 on the list. Our duo is still 1 deep fried oreo enema away from the gold medal. Shoot for the stars.
Essentially a hybrid of a "Got Milk?" PSA & a GWAR concert. Or in more comprehensive terms: 1-part health consciousness, 274-parts batshit fuckin aspergers. #NEVERFORGET.
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.
Trying to convince your wife to participate in what can only be described as gathering of the juggalos that serves pasta salad? Bold. But her response? Giggling like she found an extra tender in her 4-piece. Relationships shlamationships.
Back in the mid 1900's, she was Italy's "Original Pornstar". Today she's senile, decrepit and probably doesn't even know whats going on but someone let her out the nursing home for one last porno shoot.
Commit to a blind date in the state of Florida, and I'd say you got about a 98% chance of matching up with a person that dispenses more threatening fluids than a Mountain Dew vending machine. And today my friends, you're gonna learn that the hard way.
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.
Of all the story lines you could choose, expedited shipping would be last on my fucking list. Then again, so is paying autistic girls in gift cards to round out your threesome so maybe I don't see the vision. Perhaps decades of inbreeding and limiting toothbrush ownership to 1 per home has carved itself into a niche I can only describe as: Inflation-Friendly Walmart Porn.
Today we go on a spirited journey to a time forgotten; Behind the scenes of your average 2004 porn shoot. Special shoutout to Julian for being a role model during my college years. That man's lust for turning fallopian tubes into tier-3 tuna casserole should have earned the Martha Stewart seal of approval.
A couple of yahoos get caught mashin potatoes during happy hour. Not very conspicuous about it either. Remember that one weirdo in school that always dropped his pants to the floor in front of the urinal? This is what happens when he grows up.
