7 replies on “Fucking Day: Finding Peak Hunk with the Fabulous Ones”
Stan is allegedy Lauren Boebert’s dad, so clearly Mama Boebert was taken by his hunkery
In my buddy and I’s fictional wrestling promotion, the SCCW, the tag champions are literally called The Hunk Boat. They live to get radical, and they are striving to carry the hunky torch lit by The Fabulous Ones.
It’s like Mac and Charlie’s post-suicide pact funeral video from IASIP.
I am both thrilled and terrified every time content I know from either 1900hotdog or Found Footage Fest migrates from one to the other. Either all my interests converge on hunk, or art inspires art. You can’t use occam’s razor here: it’s just not sharp enough to make it through the luscious tufts of the Fabulous Ones.
Open Dangled Hay Splay
I bow to you sir…the wordsmithing of this phrase is the equal of the swordsmithing of a Hattori Hanzo katana.
Fully actually gasped at the hunks on display. I am usually so-so on hunks but these two are beyond hunk. They’re not beef slabs, they’re dreamboats with rudders of flesh and bone and sails like the aperture of the open eyes. Light passes within and is never seen again. It’s a direct hunk-shot to the brain. They’re hot, I mean.
Did I just read a Contrapoints video on 1900HotDog? Was is it about the Post Modernity of buns? It’s all a sultry blur.
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7 replies on “Fucking Day: Finding Peak Hunk with the Fabulous Ones”
Stan is allegedy Lauren Boebert’s dad, so clearly Mama Boebert was taken by his hunkery
In my buddy and I’s fictional wrestling promotion, the SCCW, the tag champions are literally called The Hunk Boat. They live to get radical, and they are striving to carry the hunky torch lit by The Fabulous Ones.
It’s like Mac and Charlie’s post-suicide pact funeral video from IASIP.
I am both thrilled and terrified every time content I know from either 1900hotdog or Found Footage Fest migrates from one to the other. Either all my interests converge on hunk, or art inspires art. You can’t use occam’s razor here: it’s just not sharp enough to make it through the luscious tufts of the Fabulous Ones.
Open Dangled Hay Splay
I bow to you sir…the wordsmithing of this phrase is the equal of the swordsmithing of a Hattori Hanzo katana.
Fully actually gasped at the hunks on display. I am usually so-so on hunks but these two are beyond hunk. They’re not beef slabs, they’re dreamboats with rudders of flesh and bone and sails like the aperture of the open eyes. Light passes within and is never seen again. It’s a direct hunk-shot to the brain. They’re hot, I mean.
Did I just read a Contrapoints video on 1900HotDog? Was is it about the Post Modernity of buns? It’s all a sultry blur.