Another edition featuring triflin' ass hoes, hood rats of all kinds and a singing crack head with erectile problems. They call him Uncle Jim and he can do any unskilled miscellaneous task for the low-low.
What happens when you try to clone Mike Tyson, but the machine takes the eggplant emoji seriously? Sorry, but that specimen needs to be noted here. Was it's purpose to inflict maximum damage, or an aerodynamic choice to reach a new velocity?
Auto-fellaters, Braingasms and a straight up public service announcement fists should only be use in a boxing ring. Today's episode is more unforgiving than my local mall security that time I was discovered defecating in Anthropologie's Aromatic and Ambiance fragrance section.
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.
Don't let the confidence in her voice fool you: This cholita's ability to withstand pain is about as real as her soggy pancakes in a pushup bra. As illustrated by his first, second and 17th attempt to keep a decent rhythm in her poo canoe. The end result? Well... you'll see.
Let me formally introduce you to GM. aka Grandpa Merrick. aka Wrinkle Rocker. aka Mr. Steal Yo Girl. Rather than live out his twilight years chasing dusty jellyfish, he wakes up every day and chooses violence. And intravenous Cialis.
Some women that happen to look like rejected "Lord of the Rings" characters find themselves in a cheap hotel room, making a porn movie so atrocious that even the producer wouldn't show up to film it.
