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Lex Jurgen - December 9, 2016
The GQ Men of the Year awards are very much like a Charlie Sheen rager. You can see all the obviously hot girls with big tits everywhere, but somehow guys are still coming home with The AIDS. Girls like Charlotte McKinney are a trap. Meanwhile there's a guy named Theodore who keeps suggesting you discuss trade policy with Peru over Nespressos in his suite.
Don't let the term men's magazines fool you. The men's magazine is dead. Playboy is now running apology letters for ever getting hardons to chicks with oiled down fake breasts. Maxim is suggesting the best hair product for indoor outdoor holiday parties. And Hustler, well, still spread wide gynecological shots of women's reproductive systems. Bless their hearts. When they wheel Larry Flynt into his final resting spot they'll likely turn into a frightening skin disease clickbait farm. It's unclear precisely how effiminate this culture can become ISIS merely gives us a knowing look and we surrender out of embarassment. Assume they treat their submissives well.
Photo Credit: Splash
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