Have you heard? The inventor of the Explosive Anal Bead, Jackson (redacted) died to his own invention!
by Blobino fan December 13, 2022
Get the Explosive Anal Bead mug.In terms of dating, the Brad Pitt Rule suggests that if you're uncertain about whether to pursue a romantic interest or go on a date with someone, imagine if Brad Pitt asked you out instead. If the thought of going on a date with the person in question doesn't excite you as much as the thought of going on a date with Brad Pitt would, then it might indicate that the romantic interest isn't as strong or compatible as it could be. Essentially, it's a way to evaluate your level of attraction and interest in a potential romantic partner.
Like if a woman imposes some arbitrary time frame, move on. Seth’s Brad Pitt theory suggests She’s definitely fucking Brad on a first date.
by Slamdiesel February 15, 2024
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The process of shoving raw pasta in your ass packet by packet and letting it marinate for 5-10 days until you finally release the bottom one causing a jenga effect. This is then served as a dish
by NewJork January 15, 2026
Get the The Italian Bead mug.by litcrazymovie December 7, 2024
Get the clamping on the beads mug.Big Bad Brad (noun): A lumbering, sub-human brute with a bulbous frame and an unnaturally wide base. His thick, fat, calloused hooves are often crammed into women’s footwear. His face, a big, dumb, perfectly round slab of confusion, sits atop his hairy mass, though his scalp remains curiously barren. He speaks in a slow, monotone drawl, as if each word is a struggle against his own stupidity.
Chronically late to work and a walking medical mystery (at least in his own mind), this gutter snipe suffers from an extreme case of hypochondria. His days are punctuated by dramatic medical ailments, followed by frantic calls for an ambulance to ferry him from his own home, only for doctors to confirm, yet again, that absolutely nothing is wrong.
A connoisseur of filth, this swamp-dwelling specimen produces greasy, bile-ridden shits at an alarming rate. He is a walking biohazard, harboring every known strain of hepatitis along with a few that science has yet to discover.
Despite his Neanderthal-like attributes, Brad possesses a shockingly average IQ. However, his dental history suggests a level of neglect that has single-handedly funded his dentist’s children’s college tuition. Though Big Bad Brad’s underwear is often covered in matted hair and shit, he remains a friend to all and, in his free time, a self-proclaimed world-class chiropractor, despite having no formal training or hygiene standards.
Chronically late to work and a walking medical mystery (at least in his own mind), this gutter snipe suffers from an extreme case of hypochondria. His days are punctuated by dramatic medical ailments, followed by frantic calls for an ambulance to ferry him from his own home, only for doctors to confirm, yet again, that absolutely nothing is wrong.
A connoisseur of filth, this swamp-dwelling specimen produces greasy, bile-ridden shits at an alarming rate. He is a walking biohazard, harboring every known strain of hepatitis along with a few that science has yet to discover.
Despite his Neanderthal-like attributes, Brad possesses a shockingly average IQ. However, his dental history suggests a level of neglect that has single-handedly funded his dentist’s children’s college tuition. Though Big Bad Brad’s underwear is often covered in matted hair and shit, he remains a friend to all and, in his free time, a self-proclaimed world-class chiropractor, despite having no formal training or hygiene standards.
Jimmy: Big Bad Brad showed up late again, wheezing like he ran a marathon wearing those damn women’s sneakers.
Melvin: I swear those shoes are crying for help. Probably like his dentist every time he walks in.
Jimmy: Speaking of cries for help, what’s the over/under on his next fake medical emergency?
Melvin: Two hours—max. My money’s on “mystery heart failure” again.
Melvin: I swear those shoes are crying for help. Probably like his dentist every time he walks in.
Jimmy: Speaking of cries for help, what’s the over/under on his next fake medical emergency?
Melvin: Two hours—max. My money’s on “mystery heart failure” again.
by Dwaggerbomb March 1, 2025
Get the Big Bad Brad mug.Big Bad Brad (noun): A lumbering, sub-human brute with a bulbous frame and an unnaturally wide base. His thick, fat, calloused hooves are often crammed into women’s footwear. His face, a big, dumb, perfectly round slab of confusion, sits atop his hairy mass, though his scalp remains curiously barren. He speaks in a slow, monotone drawl, as if each word is a struggle against his own stupidity.
Chronically late to work and a walking medical mystery (at least in his own mind), he suffers from an extreme case of hypochondria. His days are punctuated by dramatic medical ailments, followed by frantic calls for an ambulance to ferry him from his own home, only for doctors to confirm, yet again, that absolutely nothing is wrong.
A connoisseur of filth, this swamp-dwelling specimen produces greasy, bile-ridden shits at an alarming rate. He is a walking biohazard, harboring every known strain of hepatitis along with a few that science has yet to discover.
Despite his Neanderthal-like attributes, Brad possesses a shockingly average IQ. However, his dental history suggests a level of neglect that has single-handedly funded his dentist’s children’s college tuition. Though Big Bad Brad’s underwear is often covered in matted hair and shit, he remains a friend to all and, in his free time, a self-proclaimed world-class chiropractor, despite having no formal training or hygiene standards.
Chronically late to work and a walking medical mystery (at least in his own mind), he suffers from an extreme case of hypochondria. His days are punctuated by dramatic medical ailments, followed by frantic calls for an ambulance to ferry him from his own home, only for doctors to confirm, yet again, that absolutely nothing is wrong.
A connoisseur of filth, this swamp-dwelling specimen produces greasy, bile-ridden shits at an alarming rate. He is a walking biohazard, harboring every known strain of hepatitis along with a few that science has yet to discover.
Despite his Neanderthal-like attributes, Brad possesses a shockingly average IQ. However, his dental history suggests a level of neglect that has single-handedly funded his dentist’s children’s college tuition. Though Big Bad Brad’s underwear is often covered in matted hair and shit, he remains a friend to all and, in his free time, a self-proclaimed world-class chiropractor, despite having no formal training or hygiene standards.
Jimmy: Big Bad Brad showed up late again, wheezing like he ran a marathon wearing those damn women’s shoes.
Melvin: I swear those shoes are crying for help. Probably like his dentist every time he walks in.
Jimmy: Speaking of cries for help, what’s the over/under on his next fake medical emergency?
Melvin: Two hours—max. My money’s on “mystery heart failure” again.
Melvin: I swear those shoes are crying for help. Probably like his dentist every time he walks in.
Jimmy: Speaking of cries for help, what’s the over/under on his next fake medical emergency?
Melvin: Two hours—max. My money’s on “mystery heart failure” again.
by Dwaggerbomb March 11, 2025
Get the Big Bad Brad mug.A lumbering, sub-human brute with a bulbous frame and an unnaturally wide base. His thick, fat, calloused hooves are often crammed into women’s footwear. His face, a big, dumb, perfectly round slab of confusion, sits atop his hairy mass, though his scalp remains curiously barren. He speaks in a slow, monotone drawl, as if each word is a struggle against his own stupidity.
Chronically late to work and a walking medical mystery (at least in his own mind), he suffers from an extreme case of hypochondria. His days are punctuated by dramatic medical ailments, followed by frantic calls for an ambulance to ferry him from his own home, only for doctors to confirm, yet again, that absolutely nothing is wrong.
A connoisseur of filth, this swamp-dwelling specimen produces greasy, bile-ridden shits at an alarming rate. He is a walking biohazard, harboring every known strain of hepatitis along with a few that science has yet to discover.
Despite his Neanderthal-like attributes, Brad possesses a shockingly average IQ. However, his dental history suggests a level of neglect that has single-handedly funded his dentist’s children’s college tuition. Though Big Bad Brad’s underwear is often covered in matted hair and shit, he remains a friend to all and, in his free time, a self-proclaimed world-class chiropractor, despite having no formal training or hygiene standards.
Chronically late to work and a walking medical mystery (at least in his own mind), he suffers from an extreme case of hypochondria. His days are punctuated by dramatic medical ailments, followed by frantic calls for an ambulance to ferry him from his own home, only for doctors to confirm, yet again, that absolutely nothing is wrong.
A connoisseur of filth, this swamp-dwelling specimen produces greasy, bile-ridden shits at an alarming rate. He is a walking biohazard, harboring every known strain of hepatitis along with a few that science has yet to discover.
Despite his Neanderthal-like attributes, Brad possesses a shockingly average IQ. However, his dental history suggests a level of neglect that has single-handedly funded his dentist’s children’s college tuition. Though Big Bad Brad’s underwear is often covered in matted hair and shit, he remains a friend to all and, in his free time, a self-proclaimed world-class chiropractor, despite having no formal training or hygiene standards.
After clogging the toilet for the third time that week, Bad News Brad waddled out, wiped his sweaty brow, and blamed it on his undiagnosed heart condition.
by Dwaggerbomb March 13, 2025
Get the Bad News Brad mug.