Merry Christmas! It’s Upsetting Day.
Now you must choose which day you’d rather celebrate.
On the one hand you have family, togetherness, hot cocoa, carols, presents and the portly home invader dressed to hide bloodstains who brings them to you. On the other hand, you have hundreds of jokes about the worst movies, the weirdest books, the most unsettling pieces of media that should never have been and the two robust, bulging men who bring them to you. They are also dressed to hide bloodstains.
Choose Upsetting Day!
If a Costco factory chicken had anything like a beak left on its featherless, shit-covered head, it would describe Something Must Be Wrong With Me as “a bit too sad for me.”
For the first 25 or so pages, How to Get Along with Black People is a light-hearted comedy routine about stereotypes which I recognized as a trap. Giving white people permission to laugh at racial stereotypes is how we got Zach Braff.
This is 100% the first thing I would behead with a shovel if it was walking next to the animated remains of Osama bin Laden. What the fuck went wrong in Leah A. Haley‘s life that made her think this is cute? If these goddamn horrors ever start talking with their mouths, the first thing they’re going to say is, “We are the ghosts of abortions. We are here for your skin.”
From a certain point of view, Beanie Baby® Stories is a book filled with “Heartwarming stories for Beanie Baby® lovers of all ages,” but there may have been no hobby more alien to human behavior than Beanie Baby® collecting. Nothing these people did made sense, and even today, years after the sad, dark life of mock capitalism they built for themselves crumbled into nothing, we have no idea why they became Beanie Baby® collectors. If I saw 300 grandmothers carrying Beanie Babies® and they all turned to me and hissed “We’re fucking them!” from the one giant grandmother they are swarming into, it would actually help it make more sense.
Debra M. finished the entire alphabet and her takeaway was not “I know a lot about prisons now.” It was, “I hope the author consults with reputable psychotherapists next time publishing a book to purportedly help children.” I don’t need to tell you Debra is, ugh, the worst, but she’s probably right. Do you have any idea how shitty you have to be at making coloring books if you’re a professor of criminology named Muntaquim Muhammad and some random Debbie has a better take on the prison industrial complex than you? This is like Lena Dunham getting body acceptance explained to her by a guy named Footslut Jake.
“Cranial nerve exam porn” sounds like something so hardcore you can only film it in the most Russian parts of Russia. But no, this shit is like the schoolgirl fantasy of ASMR Roleplay: So commonplace it’s barely considered deviant. These videos are as omnipresent as they are perplexing…
It’s always the same — an attractive female doctor gently inquiring if you have something wrong with your brain. It is the single most attainable fantasy for ASMR fans, who could make this a reality by taking two steps: Making a doctor’s appointment, and admitting to why they made that doctor’s appointment.
This here is an entire channel dedicated to fans of Damsels In Distress, or DIDdlers. Do they proudly call themselves that, or did I make it up to insult them? You don’t know, and unless you criminally compromise your search history, you never will!
I’m sure they’ve written some baseline setups for his weirdness, but you cannot get Gary Busey to follow a script unless you tape it to the ghosts he thinks are attacking him.
“Can you put that away?” I gestured at his naked cock, which was easy to do. I didn’t even have to pick a direction. “I’m not sure if I’m embarrassed or jealous but I literally can’t look at anything else. There’s not enough room.”
Mario Lopez picked up something from the floor and mechanically slid on a pair of the woman’s worn panties. They were metallic purple. It was almost worse.
“Can you put on something else?”
Your Second Grader definitely needs to know how to peel a whale like an orange. Ignore the tears; tell him again where the chains attach. This world is a harsh place and he will never thrive if he doesn’t understand exactly how you skin majesty.
It’s padding for your dick’s bra. Here’s the thing guys may not realize though: women tend to value honesty a little more than men. If I’m lucky enough to hook up with a woman, and she takes off her bra to reveal less than perfect breasts, I’m going to shrug and continue to count my blessings. If a guy pulls his pants down and a cheap piece of Batman armor falls out of his underwear, the night is over and Lady Yelp will hear of this sad tale.
This article was brought to you by our fine sponsors and Hot Dog Supremes: The artist formerly known as Devon, Eric Spaulding, Neil Bailey, Doug Redmond, Lane Haygood, and Luke Skyjogger. Apart they are mere humans, but together, and with enough booze, they are asked to leave the Sizzler.