Part two of Maddie Crump’s finale has arrived. This SoCal beauty sleeps with a kitchen knife next to her, so no funny ideas, fellas. Maddie’s botched spray tan, fried hair, and mouthful of orthodontics might also dissuade some, but I doubt most. I will add an xtra of her soon. Sleep tight.

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Beta from Buenos Aires finds yet another irresistible Argentinian for our hungry eyes. Victoria Ramos clearly has a fun personality and a taste for tease. I recently cut out gluten from my diet, so the sweet pastries in these pics have zero appeal to me. In fact, all I consume now are AG1, Blue Chew, and Prime energy drink. It hurts when I breathe, but I can tear a hole in some dry wall with this man-hammer. Are there any cardiologists in the Zishy fanbase? Asking for a friend.

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If my memory serves me correctly, but usually it does not, Cindy White had an ultra-Christian upbringing. Her father grew up in Montana. As a boy, he idolized his favorite Sunday preacher for delivering the most powerful and heartfelt sermons. Jacob began to think that his future also lied in clergy. But God had other plans. A summer job at a local car dealership developed into a short career as the slimiest salesman you could ever meet. Jacob ended up impregnating the dealership’s receptionist, who was already unhappily married to her alcoholic (and closeted) high school sweetheart, and the two decided to start a new life together in Bakersfield. They bore an attractive daughter and subjected her to extreme sexual repression post-puberty. This of course had the opposite desired effect and Cindy’s curious nature erupted the moment she was able to hitchhike her way to Los Angeles. However, religion proved a hard habit to kick and Cindy was compelled to find herself a church, as luck would have it, the very same one located around the corner from my go-to dispensary. I can spot a gem hiding in any congregation. Stay ready.

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It took patience, but I was finally able to meet and photograph Riley Nixon. She is kind, intelligent, and seemingly holds back nothing from the camera. She traveled to Austin earlier this year before the weather turned dangerously unbearable. Riley and I still broke sweats walking through downtown. An outing this extensive could prove deadly in the midst of July. We visited the Comedy Mothership, Joe Rogan’s club, where they were handing out vials of horse dewormer. I am so glad that Joe has been de-platformed and that we are now safe due to the saintly work of Fauci and big pharma. Hail Pfizer! Two last things, the misspelling is intentional and a bonus video was added to the previous update with Jeni.

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I am sick of waiting for my day to come. I am surrounded by skeletons covered in fat, sporting unoriginal personalities, and living on borrowed time. The one thing that gives me joy is meeting other genetic garbage that shares my disgust with these predicaments. I know it sounds absurd, but I am dying for one of them, or all of them, to rip apart my yoga pants, force open my hips, and enter-enter-enter me. Turn me into an airport urinal cake. Make me feel something. Anything. -Karine Jean-Pierre

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