On a dark night in some soviet shithole, crazy old man Vlad drank on his medication, put his birthday suit on and now he ain't taking no shit from no stupid Volvos giving him any crap.
A day that lived in infamy amongst the delivery driver community has finally been given credence from the mouth/vaginal opening that participated in the fabled event. Now imagine a modern version with a hint of [double dashing]. [4] heads would roll. [more here]
I can't imagine what life decisions lead to your obituary being littered with the words "twerking" and "public nuisance" and "30,000 volts". But I'm betting it involves the neighbor's parakeet, and all 16 delicious flavors of Rice-a-Roni. (fuck you Rice Pilaf)
Start Door Dashing your scottish woodcocks, and fire up the Tay Tay playlist because you're about to witness the pinnacle of crossbreeding the Starship Troopers prequel we never got with a porn studio that actually has funding. Ridley Scott; Take notes.
At this point I'm just respecting the hustle of being able to sell sex without ever being penetrated in front of a camera. Truly a spectacle in it's own right that leaves you trapped between vigorous masturbation or making a donation to the Shia LaBeouf Community College for the Gifted. [PART I] [PART II] [PART III]
Belladonna is down for dog cock, Proxy Paige wants to fuck her own mom, & Annette Schwarz gets wet thinking about vomiting on senior citizens. Goodbye okcupid.com, my search for companionship has been fulfilled.
All I ask is to watch and promise to never replicate. Especially that indoor power washing in the last video. One wrong push and you run the risk of turning the thunderstorm into a full blown shit shower. I call it "the heat seeking carmel farmer" and it's the #3 reason for divorce. Right behind finances and sending an application to Lily Philips.
Pigs flying, A Manson Family Hanukkah special and clean underwear after all-you-can-eat Chinese food. These are all things I expected to see long before a man that has mastered the art of hands-free ejacs. Next time do it into the palm of a guy named Carlos. It's called the Puerto Rican Panhandle, I invented it.
If you we're an emotionally messed up prostitute, I'm sure you would fucking hate talking about your life too. But would you hate it more then sucking the dick of a self-titled "crack whore connoisseur"? More crazy in the source link.
