I've never liked golf... or any sports for that matter. I don't see the point of putting balls in holes for points 'n shit, but when the goals have been replaced with holes, you have earned my attention.
The downside of crossbreeding compassion with an industry that considers rectal depth as a measuring stick for paycheck tiers? Every dude within the city boundaries will be socializing your cornhole like it's Chinese healthcare. edit: I decided to see what Sativa was up to nowadays... and... well... I was not disappointed
Sorry to all competing rookies out there trying to cover the Vagisil bill: This is the type of content you need to be producing now. Those glory days of not acting like somebody hooked a lawn mower battery to your fallopian tubes to get attention are over. Devon... get the Flex Tape.
Never have I seen a man do something so incredibly vile with such charm. Where there's tension, he provides laughter. Where there's pain, he provides comfort. And where there's feces on the tip of his penis... he provides dinner.
Breaking traditional workout regimes, NASA-sponsored ejaculations and Skynet inching ever closer to harvesting our organs through the channel of A.I. powered sex transformers. If the next 8 minutes doesn't shine a more positive light on your life, nothing will. I'm here to help.
So you think Dr. Phil has covered all the bases of marital disasters? Well it's time to reevaluate bitch. These pioneers of female empowerment do it all. And by all I mean everything except give us the long awaited sequel to Karen's Krapper: Volume 27. Alexa, play Big Bottom by Spinal Tap.
This is what happens when Tinder gets boring and a woman experiments outside of her comfort zone. That fucking thing is one "let met talk to your manager haircut" away from being Brie Larson's stunt double. Or Tim Burton's next villain. Feel free to choose your own adventure today.
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.
Bittersweet painal, obscenity-filled orgasms, and a boob job predating the bicentennial. This ones got it all, and Ms. Big Ole Leathery Funbags earns some serious bonus points at the 2:35 mark.. Not even a fuckin rectal injury can dull her desire for ATM.
That's it man. As far as I'm concerned vegans have officially jumped the plant-based shark. Not even at the height of one of my patented Acid Trip + Red Lobster Biscuit wombo combo benders did I envision something as despicable as this going behind a paywall.
