Anastasia Rose becomes the next spokeswoman for Charmin Ultra Soft. Riley Reid reaches peak brain rot. Kenzie Reeves masters the art Yondu's arrow. And this "Gala MV" girl... well... there's no coming back for her. What the fuck?
hmm, strange. Here I am thinking the whole "i'm training to turn my uterus into a parking garage for hellcats" was no longer a lucrative financial path worth pursuing. And then the last girl went ahead proved me wrong.
Like the southeast Asian area of the planet treating the Xhamster comment section like a 1-sided dating app, some of these moments have to be seen to be believed. Others will call it Tuesday morning and move on. More [HERE]
Kristina Bella becomes self-aware. Leya Falcon gives back to her community. Audrey Hempburn is currently on the run from Twitter And Veronica Leal... well, let's just say Ze Machine knows how to keep the romance going. You'll see.
Just what in the fucking Doogie Howser, M.D. are we witnessing here? I'd give him the big W for going the distance... but no amount of THOT slaying in the world is going to change the unfortunate genetic make up of that boogie board he calls a body. Congrats?
For fuck sakes, there's only 2 things capable of further emasculating a man that is fantasy-banging his meth head relative. One is knowing you stuck your dick into a family classic, the other is whatever the shit is going on here.
Imagine making it to the last clip of this degenerate fever dream and still thinking everything's gonna be alright. We are six (or seven) kinds of fucked if this conduct continues. James Sunderland sends his regards. More of Scene 1 [HERE].
The soundtrack was so bangin, I had to fulfill your request(s). Wanna know what's not though? Whatever the fuck must have happened to this girl earlier in life to make her like this. Probably haven't seen that kind of wreckage since the great crave crate challenge of '97.
idk what exit strategy the mutant in the last clip is planning on, but this shit doesn't work for me brother. Seriously it's over for you and any unsuspecting Amish person you hire to tailor-make a pair of Fruit of The Looms wide enough to hide that monstrosity from the world.
