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.
Essentially this is a public service announcement on the cons and cons of touring San Fransisco. Some will live to tell the tale. Others will merge with Skid Row through osmosis. But all will learn the defintion of of "Ordering the Portuguese Breakfast".
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
Over the course of 15 years, I've tried saving the word epic for oddities that truly work for the definition. And let me tell you friends: If an emotional beat down of a daddy-issued ketamine-lifer doesn't earn it, the 4-inch race-rampage in the final act will lol.
I'll leave you with some wisdom my acquaintance at Panda Express bestowed upon me: Never underestimate a woman's will to feed. She may have the phenotype of a New Jersey soccer mom... but when the adrenaline hits, watch the fuck out.
If the first chick doesn't have the look of a girl that's itted to losing her virginity to a mailbox, I don't know what is. A moment that was probably about as unintentional as me using Cowabunga Bay Water's wave pool as my own personal porta potty. Apologies to visitors between years of 1998 - 2013.
7 samples into a hot dog warming party goes horribly wrong when one rogue cowboy says fuck all to the rules and slings his gentleman juice around like he's in the handicap stall at Country Buffet. The result is a crash course on Plan-B and why IQ tests need to be mandatory in porn. [More Here]
She escaped communist China in search of a better life. Only to find herself in a Detroit warehouse angrily jerking off dudes and giving unhappy endings.
Dare venture beyond the realm of myfreecams and you're bound to open a door to the insane asylum known as The Hola18 Wormhole. The only way out is being left with the kind of irreparable confusion felt by someone making it to the end credits of a movie with the words "Tyler Perry" in the title.
Listen: If you delinquents keep spamming your entire loadouts before the first checkpoint is captured, I'm gonna have to turn this into an official series. That kind of uncontrollable pressure reminds me of a romantic moment involving myself, a $20.00 bill and the McRib. Let's just say mom's Plymouth Vista got a new interior paint job that night. [PART I] [PART II]
