chris-littlechild - September 4, 2012
Could you surmise the identities of our previous amalgamation of ladyflesh and crudely-superimposed piss-takable heads? Huzzah for your gaming knowledge and ogling credentials if you answered in the affirmative! If not, here's another opportunity to appease the wrath of The Almighty Deity of Boob-age and the Sextacular Women They Protrude From (to curtail the hyperventilation epidemic among his zealous disciples, his name is oft abridged to Nigel.)
This week, we have coerced the frankly-less-than-alluring Angry Video Game Nerd into obscuring duty. Oftentimes, this dude and his penchant for swearing indiscriminately at some nut-numbingly tedious ballache of an RPG from the eighties (exacerbated by wan flesh that suggests his only other engagement consists of eating slices of white bread direct from the bag with the curtains drawn) attains the lofty heights of a definitive zero on the horn-ometer; an indispensable device surgically implanted into the ‘nads of every man at birth (we're given to understand. A drunken hobo we once encountered in an alley that reeked of piss 'confirmed' this). In the above gallery, he's rather a delectable prospect, but whose comely corps is he inhabiting in each image? Name Those Norks!
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