goblin mode; the behavior of someone who wants to feel comfortable doing whatever they want, not caring about trying to be clean, healthy, attractive or about impressing other people. [PART I]
The man. The myth. The cease and desists from Keebler elves. This is the definitive collection of the 4 foot pitbull known as [El Pony DeBilbao]. Not really a warning, but his approach to sexual intercourse may produce a bag of mixed emotions.
Any female that signs up for a Woodman scene more than likely has an undiagnosed neurodevelopmental disorder. And she is no different. A handful of WWE finishing moves has her pastrami butterfly goopafied and no other man will satisfy her again. #gg
As we head towards the final sunset of a year that gave more than one reason to disembowel our own eyeballs with a stinger missile, it's time we reflected. May 2024 bestow upon us more trolls, deeper holes and Twitch.com finishing it's metamorphosis into Chaturbate.
Our boy successfully pulls off one of the audibles taught in Bang: More Lays in 60 Days, but the tables quickly turn on him. From then on it's a battle of egos as this greenhorn frolics through her first rear admiral'ing like it's a full body massage. There won't be a sequel.
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.
One half of MTV's greatest creation hits the fucking SIMP jackpot. She's Cameron Canela and before her IMDB sported titles like Don't Break Me Volume 6 and Republican Candidate Wife Swap she was handing out freebies to genetics most unfortunate specimens.
Think your marriage is in trouble? Time to reevaluate things, Ham Hock. Today we have a pioneer of female empowerment that does it all. And by all I mean a.) buttsex b.) buttsex while wearing her wedding ring and admitting it on camera. yikes = big
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.
