Let me tell you something people. I've been doing this a long time, maybe even longer then some of you have been alive. And I can honestly say this is the first time I feared a studio would be sued by George Lucas for infringing on his design for the Sarlacc. For the love of fuck, prepare yourself.
Based on a true story about a peanut butter sandwich, the dangers of masturbating, and how Aunt Opal made her nephew a man. A man with issues needing life long therapy, but a man none the less.
The 4:30 mark will be the breaking point for some of you. Is it real? Will you ever look at BFG Division the same again? Did I free throw one into the sink at Starbucks from the foul line because their stall was locked off this morning? All these questions have the same answer.
First-timer foolishly assumes her debut appearance is going to be a walk in the park. Emphases on the word walk, because it looks like all her future tours of Italy at Olive Garden are going to be wheelchair accessible from this point forward. What in the fuck...
If you we're an emotionally messed up prostitute, I'm sure you would fucking hate talking about your life too. But would you hate it more then sucking the dick of a self-titled "crack whore connoisseur"? More crazy in the source link.
Everything in life has a proper explanation if you open your mind. Except the homie trying to scrub daddy his dirty walnut on a Tuesday afternoon in broad daylight around the 1:45 mark. NORAD will hear about this.
For fuck sakes, these dorks could've thrown a dart at any billboard in Las Vegas and found better ideas to attach to their bodies permanently. I haven't seen people this far out of their comfort zones since the launch of Burger King's ultimate breakfast platter.
Monetizing your vagina only has a few rules: Minimal trips to Home Depot, and keep the clitoris away from all things with the name "Husqvarna" on them. Not a hard list, but this MFC alumni decides to test fate another way, resulting in a semi-rage quit. GGNORE.
He came packing a mullet, social-awkwardness and the body type/skin tone of a marsh mellow with prescription glasses. But that day back in 1998, he was a hero for 10 minutes at a gentleman's club in Arkansas.
