The downside of trying to get your nut off on a $7 dollar budget? This. Every fucking second of this video is why you should always save 10% of your sheckles and wait to splurge outside of the Black Friday Mental Hospital Manager's Special of expired street meat. #yick
At first I was positive this was the same woman that keeps invading my Instagram feed with videos about blowing circus clowns and publicly shaming herself for having the vaginal odor of a Sudanese outhouse. But her (un)puckered starburst having the towing capacity of a Dodge Ram 3500 proved otherwise.
The one and only JSC aka The O.G. Wzard of the Teflon Rectum. Her anal acrobatics set such a standard in the renaissance days of underground porn, you'd almost forget she used her vag recreationally. But in 1998... something magical happened...
Hey, no one said you had to like it Natalie Portman. Just lean forward, keep a tight grip on those communal wieners and think about all the Baconators you'll be able to purchase at the end of the week. That's what keeps me going. Her first appearance HERE.
The more inbreeding in your bloodline, the further you'll go to seek sexual satisfaction. A simple concept, officially reinforced by whatever director's cut episode of Survivor Man is going on in that last clip. I'll put it this way; in comparison it makes Jeppson's Malort seem like a fucking delicacy. It's that abhorrent.
If you thought we were going to make it through 3 volumes of woman decorating their reproductive systems with everything that isn't bolted down at Home Goods, and not get a single appearance by the only pornstar that could land a Dyson sponsorship; you thought wrong. And quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed. Also RIP Rowdy Piper.
There are 2 kinds of people in this world: Those who respect the human bodies maximum pounds-per-square inch tolerance, and those who do not. Guess which one is getting featured today? HINT: They've never had a flat tire in their life.
One country's quest for sexual satisfaction reaches it's peak, courtesy of a build-a-bear workshop for egg-drop rice boxes. It's hard to turn a blind eye to this actually being possible in 2020, but make sure this technology never makes it's way to Florida and you got yourself an investor.
Irrationally sized flobberweavels, a urethra that's suffered more abuse than whoever the fuck bought Barstool for $500 mil and the recreation of a classic in glorious high(er) definition. Don't think of this as the balanced breakfast you need, think of it as the one you deserve.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
Every girl should know that a slippery fuck toy plus a cavernous butthole can equal a trip to the ER. Next time save yourself the embarrassing shuffle through the waiting room and tie a string to that mother fucker.
