Doctor Damp Slap Goes For Prison Walkies | Mass Effect 2 Legendary Edition
1Mass Effect 2 Legendary Edition is finally here. The gorgeous near perfect remaster and the exact threadbare excuse I needed to pollute the foyer of this channel in exactly the same saturated sci-fi orgy manner than I did all those years ago. This is one of my favourite franchises of all time and its going to show hard. Wanna see a grown man cry? Might as well stay here on the channel...it-it just keeps happening. This time it tastes like joy though so, that's a win
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Welcome to my let's play of Mass Effect 2 Legendary Edition, in this episode: It was bound to happen eventually, every doctor I've ever been assigned by the large men in white...poorly fitting vests of seeing eye stains patterns has eventually had enough of me and my sorry cases of the mumps and lumps with a worryingly high social stat, and amount of mouths, and by cases I DO mean the briefcase kind that I'd bring in as offerings like most people would haul a 400 pack of dunkins in on their long suffering compressed spine, pop open and begin to manically and enthusiastically weep to keep their thumbs out of their eyes. But after enough nervous cattle prod roleplay of her going ape in a tweed chair with minimum response, although if she's from the robin williams school of psychology even a failed attempt at going ape will probably end with her swinging from a tall tree and/or jungle gym ceiling, that I'd just love to bark up in merciful wrong'un regret, but even if not exactly like that public reenactment of the dangers of class A flubber use self sabotage, every circus brain surgery foot tricks professional I ever had to see would snap, strip down to just their deep end pants and scream all the way into the parking lot to fight all the cars and win. Even old ME1 meat shell michelle underwent that no air holes punched in my 200th pineapple assisted liquid pony jar kind of fate. Anyway, I hope no one objects to be rambo-ing my way through some babyface bullethole bingo scratchcards that you call eyelids, but my catty mean girl claws have gotten very jagged in their pastel puke era and I want to blunt and fatten my extremities on all 13 miles of your rapidly yellowing tubes before they burn the batarian edition of the Swedish chef at the stake as one of his famous cannibalising your slaves in the rotating pagan ritual showroom of an IKEA recipes. Its probably just a bad idea all around to give your therapist a windowshopping transparent pain pane to gaze through and potentially leave some left behind abandoned slobber ghosts on that peeps into your tomfoolery garden of carnal territory with all the used, ill gotten curly wurly wrappers and trail of scabs leading to your bed like roses would if you cared about joyful heartwarming incoming typhoons of wetness to dip your tea leaves into in the saddle zone of your world weary women of the week, suffering from weakness of faith curable only by a threatening match of peekaboo with my googly eyed alpha tested, beta tasted erection that's currently barely able to stand in blood sausage development hell thanks to the new restrictions on German pork composers finest hour's jumbled and amalgamated in the bedroom whether you've been prescribed a good bright red grease hook in the kisser three times in a row after every meal, or if you're just visiting. But hey, I guess what happens between a man and 600 deforested logs in the privacy of his own personal overworked breadbin before being dishonorably discharged, is his own damn business. The unassailable right to locate your gag reflex like Magellan in an oral canoe catching a chesty cough from the native's bacterial wiggle dance against an entire wood heavy habitat filled with one or two surviving sparrow/coyote metropolitan couples that would definitely win an emmy for the sitcom they're starring in together if I hadn't just stunlocked their hopes, dreams, and retirement home with the grapefruit method. Who says the skybound beardchin greenhouse man can deny you your meatless weenfun? Not I, said the binoclard sex pest from an extra echoey bush, not I.
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What is Mass Effect Legendary Edition? (wiki):
Mass Effect Legendary Edition is a compilation of the video games in the Mass Effect trilogy: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, and Mass Effect 3. All three were visually remastered and had their gameplay enhanced
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