Andy Pages then smashes a dinger into space, thus ending the existential crisis on commentary.
Andy Pages then smashes a dinger into space, thus ending the existential crisis on commentary.
The year is 2025, my boyfriend is begging me for the hundreth time for me to shut the fuck up long enough to get through lunch.
The year is 2035, my husband is begging
The year is 2025, my boyfriend is begging me for the hundreth time for me to shut the fuck up long enough to get through lunch.
The year is 2035, my husband is begging