Every so often I come across an individual that makes me ask: How much tarantula fucking middle aged misguided trailer park moonshine did they drink before this became a good idea? It's like someone took Rosie O'Donnell and made it harder to see her naked.
Today's Menu: 1) Conor McGregor post-retirement 2) Ballin on a Budget 3) Hard Times Daddeh 4) The Mastadon Challenge 5) Contents Under Pressure 6) Always Get Your Moneys Worth
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.
For a minute there I was starting to lose faith in degenerate white guy's ability to keep me entertained. Then I was introduced to a fetish with more questions than Sylvester Stallone's medicine cabinet.
Here it is; A collection of bros that last about as long as I do during a Marvel film released after End Game. Normally these misfits would be thrown into the compost pile and forgotten, but these speedruns need to be seen to be believed.
Any female that signs up for a Woodman scene more than likely has an undiagnosed neurodevelopmental disorder. And she is no different. A handful of WWE finishing moves has her pastrami butterfly goopafied and no other man will satisfy her again. #gg
See that pretty face? Well, that's all you get because she's too busy getting seizure-fucked in the face by a cock raging french guy the entire clip to look at the camera. #rekt
Another quarter, another gaggle of beatniks that are one step closer to finding a way to fit more military equipment in their gravy cave than an aircraft carrier. Emphasis on the mini gorlock seen around the 5:45 mark. You'll never look at cave diving the same again.
