18 Dec 2012 13:03:21 PM
Thanks to the athletic supplement brand Gamma Labs, my penis has officially never been more confused in its life. It’s like a nervous groundhog down there, unsure of whether or not we’ll have six more weeks of winter. And all in the name of Christmas.
Picture this scenario: Brittney Palmer is in your living room, counting down the 12 days of Christmas in red lingerie, preferably while you wait for her evil but equally hot doppelganger to arrive and help you pick out stocking stuffers together (BA-DUM-TSH!). Sounds awesome, right? Now picture that, as you’re about to lay this gorgeous piece of work down by the fireplace, she suddenly morphs into PETE FREAKING SELL, complete with two black eyes and a shitload of tinsel (and probably a cold cut combo somewhere in there). Then Shane Carwin shows up. Then Chuck Liddell. Then Joe Stevenson and an army of caroling children. And so on. And so forth. It is a hellish nightmare that I wouldn’t wish upon the dingus of my worst enemy, yet Gamma Labs has spawned forth this erectoral purgatory on us all seemingly as some sort of cruel holiday joke.
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