I have dreams of my penis being that big. I see myself wearing loose fitted short shorts with my wang hanging out the side as I rollerblade by the beach. Jealous men shield their girlfriends eyes as my cock sways back and forth in the wind.
Some women need a good meal and a text goodnight to reach their sexual peak. Others; a couple finger loops around the ole pastrami butterfly. And then there's [Vai] who will stop at nothing less than the full power of Optimus Prime to activate her O-face.
This is ridiculous. Not 'haha-ridiculous' like a slab of society identifying as non-binary lesbian toaster strudel. Dude has zero reaction to strangers stuffing his girl like a Walmart ham, and here I am just waiting for David Attenborough's explanation as to why.
Anybody have the technical name for this phenomenon? or a real explanation? Specifically one that doesn't involve voodoo dolls, Penn & Teller or Planet Wing's suicide sauce. I want answers.
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
If there's one thing that never fails to get a fuckload of clicks - it's videos of unexpected butt love. So here's 8 of em. That's right, EIGHT, as in the number of times I defecated after eating crab wontons at P.F. Changs. Enjoy.
If anyone's interested in a wager, I have Season 6 of Bill Nye the Science Guy on bluray that says my pet chinchilla drops bigger deuces than this chick. More of her HERE.
It truly never ends. Let's just label this one the Shawshank Redemption of "wtf, your load tastes like Alan Greenspan's deceased asshole" Alan probably isn't actually dead, but I trust that the implied mental image is still effective. Game on.
If your social skank score is measured by the amount of times your bare ass has been caught on CCTV, I'd say these highway hoebags are sitting somewhere between "Code Orange" and "Threat to Society" Now, DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE YOU GO
What's hung like a Clydesdale and knows less words than a Pokemon? He's known simply as Vlad, and 37 states require a permit to walk around with that fucking thing in public.
My first pay-to-play happened in a Burger King toilet stall. She was more Kurt Perry than Katy Perry, Kinda foul. Not even a triple replay of Heather Graham's bush in Boogie Nights changed the mood that night. But... if I had this guy's attitude? Life... life would be different.
There's just no hiding from your past once you pull the trigger on something like this. Their Ross Store wardrobes will be forever stained. The regret can't be washed off. And the $27 paycheck isn't enough to drink the memories away. #crankthattherapist
