Do their porno dreams come true? Fuck no. Instead, four average-ass mother fuckers attempt to make sex with the prestigious Christy Mack, and each and every one of them brutally embarrasses themselves.
For a box that probably has more miles on it than grandads '69 Chevelle; it's in stellar condition. In fact, it might be setting the bar too high for fellow terrorKink enthusiasts to follow. I don't know if I should be impressed or slide in those DM's and ask for the cattle prod discounts. According to this video, they do exist. More RDG [HERE] and [HERE]
At this point I'm not even questioning human behavior. The only thing separating all of us from being narrated by David Attenborough, are complicated sneakers and semi-automatic weapons. Turns out the Internet may have been a mistake after all. Parts: [1] [2] [3]
Today's visuals couldn't get better if you slammed an Ambien cocktail and hit the boardwalk wearing nothing but a smile and Walmart's finest body spray. Speaking of New Jersey, not even [-carl-] himself would be caught $7 dollars deep in whatever spawned in the last clip.
I don't know what the fuck this thing is, but I'm pretty sure it's sentient and has enough work done to require an oil change every 3000 miles. Further proof that Elon Musk is the future.
It's that special time where we honor the internet's most stand out virtual hookers. These clips highlight the dangers, struggles and accomplishments of a profession that's sure to be a future premise of a black mirror episode.
Two semesters spent shotgunning Bud Light and using the sink as a toilet? No problemo. Thirty five seconds of experienced squabblenecking? Not a fucking chance. Ladies and gentlegenders - I present to you face of higher education.
What in the cornbread skidmark hell is going on with this generation? Once upon a time having the genetic configuration of a Madagascar tomato frog would limit your partners to Walmart shoppers. Now? No one even pumps the brakes. Support [HERE] [HERE] and [HERE]
Our boy successfully pulls off one of the audibles taught in Bang: More Lays in 60 Days, but the tables quickly turn on him. From then on it's a battle of egos as this greenhorn frolics through her first rear admiral'ing like it's a full body massage. There won't be a sequel.
It's almost like as time passes, society has less than a fuck to give about where they burn the midnight salami. Reminds me of the time I was almost caught defecating in a Blockbuster return box in protest to late fees accumulated on Surf Ninjas. [my balance remains due]
