Just scroll to the 4:20 mark for the definitive highlight of this sacrilegious compilation of misguided deviants. Last time I saw self-harm this determined was in a max-coping GME thread on wallstreetbets. And much like his/her ability to hold in a solid, I think it's time to pack it up and admit defeat. disclaimer: This is financial advice [you retard].
After popping a molly (or 5) and getting fucked with a lawn chair, this girl realizes her dreams of being on worldstar are within grasp and totally goes for it. IMHO not worth the lifetime of shame without curly fries and roast beef.
In the bowels of Brazil a.k.a. the other other Mexico, a local stripper gives a weary traveler an experience he'll never forget... if he can remember. He goes home with a dildo souvenir so he'll definitely know something went down that night. #YOLO
Today's visuals couldn't get better if you slammed an Ambien cocktail and hit the boardwalk wearing nothing but a smile and Walmart's finest body spray. Speaking of New Jersey, not even [-carl-] himself would be caught $7 dollars deep in whatever spawned in the last clip.
Based on a true story about a peanut butter sandwich, the dangers of masturbating, and how Aunt Opal made her nephew a man. A man with issues needing life long therapy, but a man none the less.
Today we're gonna look back into the history books. Our lesson includes everything from unadulterated violence, more than 5 flavors of that authentic shagged bush and even an appearance from an unlikely celebrity from day's past. A man that was taken way too soon.
This might eradicate any train-running fantasies you might have once had. But it will also peak your curiosity as to how Danny Glover spends a Saturday night with friends. It's what us Internet folk call a video that's perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
There's a thin line between trailer park erotica, and soul-deep emotional trauma. Where that line exists I don't know... but judging by the amount of dollar store tattoos I'm seeing on that body, I'd say this human Hindenburg sure as fuck does.
The 70's were a special time in history where no one gave a fuck. Smoking in hospitals, untamed pubes, sexually harassing midgets at the workplace, and faking a cum shot with a limp penis and shampoo? No problem. Nothing was sacred.
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.
