"I'll tell ya one thing about my personal life that I've never told before. I never fucked a ten, but one night, I fucked five twos. And I think that ought to count. I think that ought to go in your record as a positive achievement." - George Carlin
Before you ask why the mutant at 1:05 is included, I want you to take a good long look at that weapon of mass destruction. With those dimensions you'd think his question mark lookin ass would be too busy fighting Peter Pan instead of driving the female community to abstinence.
I guess this is what happens when your Netflix and Chill night turns into a solo adventure and you start organizing the "Foreign Girls That Like WuTang" sub-folder in your NUT directory. I don't know, I see more reasons you shouldn't cornhole wild life thanks to her constant deer-in-headlights reaction than I do sitcom legends. Thoughts?
Tori Spelling's Guatemalan tit job, the hole in a Walmart bathroom stall and discounted Hamburger Helper on Craigslist: Three things I'd touch before signing up for story time from Rebel "my brain is bigger than my butthole" Lynn ever fucking again.
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]
Don't let the half-assed attempt at blurring out Jackin' Jerry's face fool you; The situation may very well be authentic. Such as illustrated by our power couple having more will to finish the story than Cody Rhodes. English translation possibly done by David Lynch.
[MAKE SURE YOU WATCH PART 1 FIRST] Here it is. A live demonstration of what may be the very first evidence that sexually transmitted diseases are a conspiracy. Freddie Mercury: I'm going to get you the justice you deserve.
The amazing thing? Multiple people thought these were good ideas and put a whole lot of effort into them. I.E. the guy who had to cut a dick hole in a giant Wheaties box or the man controlling the giant octopus dildo tentacles.
If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.
