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.
That feeling when you realize a backdoor studio in Japan with a $300 makeup budget is closer to the source material of the Resident Evil games than any official movie and whatever the fuck crawled out of Netflix headquarters put together. 2 thumbs up, would Jill off into my sandwich again.
Apparently this is common in the grottos of Nigeria. I'm not so sure about it's entertainment value though. Some will look at this and see the peak of female empowerment... all I see is a barbecue even Homer fucking Simpson himself would've RSVP to.
Traditional association with Juggalos tends to be littered with words like disfigured and faygo and the aroma of a Sudanese outhouse... but not today. I'll bet my bottom dollar underneath all of that Walmart makeup, Krustina the Klown is a girl worth getting to know. Support them [-HERE-] and [-HERE-]
To call this girl a boring bang would be the understatement of the damn millennium. I'll put it this way: If you combined a gender studies course with the PGA, you'd still need a 3 hour Al Gore audio book and jumper cables to match pulses with this fucking corpse. You've been warned.
Today's menu? Uninsurable throat damage, the strongest rectum in Texas, more chain mail than Scott Steiner's closet, a recipe banned from 78% of Gordon Ramsay's restaurants and an erection even Penn and Teller can't explain to you. Good luck have fun.
Here's some wisdom I picked up while watching an infomercial for Tony Little's Gazelle Sprintmaster - always maintain good form. Sloppy form is how people get killed. Don't think the same is applicable to sucking dick? Neither did she.
It's always the same thing: Your favorite e-piece succumbs to the competition and proceeds to push her stream to the next level... only to deteriorate her street cred faster than my rectal lining at a Bangladeshi farmer's market.
If you weigh less than a garbage bag full of Charles In Charge VHS reprints, and have less use than a $5 V-Bux card, chances are you're going to end up in one of these videos. It may not sound like a useful tool to navigate life with... but then you make it to the 7:50 mark.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
Looks like someone crossbred Rosario Dawson with a howler monkey and gave it rabies. But this isn't for the lulz... more about awareness. You honestly don't even need video for this. The soundtrack alone is enough to keep my Bugle Boy cut-offs on the rinse cycle.
