I haven’t lost touch with my working class roots. Lots of working class blokes pay strange Asian men to exfoliate their skin by beating them with a bamboo cane.
Open that box up. I’m going to fuck whatever’s inside it.
“Now, don’t move, or it’ll hurt a lot worse. The blade’s got to cut clean through, alright? Hopefully this’ll teach you not to skimp on me coke stash, you bastard.”
“I’ll show you some ‘real wood’.”
“Alright, mate. You called my bluff. I CAN’T chop off your arm with my penis.””
Is it me or his weight going coked-up-Chandler?
,,,and he was in 300?
If you’re looking for Italian cuisine mixed with possible Borderline Personality Disorder/Sex Addiction look no further:
Adapted from the nightmare of an Asian man with a severe opium addiction in the 1800s, LA’s hottest Italian bistro is PORTAPOTTY! This place has everything: contemporary decor, desserts made offsite, portapotties in the parking lot that automatically lock for 180 seconds of pure sexual bliss with Gerard Butler, wait staff with PTSD and a Catsextet.
You know, it’s one of those things where six cats are dressed up in tuxes and repeatedly belt out Hotel California.
So stop on in. The provided drinking game is finish your drink when a new customer contracts gonorrhea from Gerard. If youwin STD roulette and your hoo-ha is NOT on fire after copulating with Gerard, you’ll be presented with a hand-written coupon for a free back massage by a man wearing a green suit jacket in the parking lot.
So, I guess he is just going to cut the guys hand off then?
“I’ve never removed a tattoo with a pocket knife before, but if you’re game I’ll give it a go.”
Is it me, or is that Jim Norton? Judging by the position it looks like there’s some monster rain.
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