Just what in the fucking Doogie Howser, M.D. are we witnessing here? I'd give him the big W for going the distance... but no amount of THOT slaying in the world is going to change the unfortunate genetic make up of that boogie board he calls a body. Congrats?
Do their porno dreams come true? Fuck no. Instead, four average-ass mother fuckers attempt to make sex with the prestigious Christy Mack, and each and every one of them brutally embarrasses themselves.
An awkward 120lb geek thinks he has what it takes to make his porn debut with a pornstar that can't math. But even with the deer in headlights look in his eyes, he somehow pulls off the incredible.
Not since accidentally walking into an unlocked Vietnamese restaurant bathroom at 2:00AM have I seen such disrespect for the lower half of an oriental female. And just like the rest of the Internet watching this - I am disgusted now. And 30 minutes from now.
These stories have not been embellished, because - they need no embellishment. They are simply, horrifyingly, the story of the average degenerate human sharing space on this planet with you. Except that last one...It'd be more believable to call that woman a scientist, because the elements she's finding in there are undiscovered by man and Bill Nye.
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.
One half of MTV's greatest creation hits the fucking SIMP jackpot. She's Cameron Canela and before her IMDB sported titles like Don't Break Me Volume 6 and Republican Candidate Wife Swap she was handing out freebies to genetics most unfortunate specimens.
Dude's 18, doesn't know what a clitoris is and weighs less than Ally McBeal. But in the land of fuck-4-a-buck, all that really matters is the size of your Churro... and proportionately speaking, this dude's got a fat one. Emphasis on proportions. Looks like a banana glued to a fucking toothpick.
Not exactly the most unexpected chain of events from a class of people that come less prepared for war than whoevers handicap stall I invaded at Waffle House last week. Sorry Wheels, but the bucket in the janitor's closet simply doesn't meet my capacity standard.
