It's almost like as time passes, society has less than a fuck to give about where they burn the midnight salami. Reminds me of the time I was almost caught defecating in a Blockbuster return box in protest to late fees accumulated on Surf Ninjas. [my balance remains due]
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.
Not every one of today's carousel of evolutionary's most gifted were born with the poker face of Clint Eastwood. So when you bare witness to the equivalent of a vaginal SCUD missile, understand it took practice to get here. [more]
You originally saw her at the end of [Public Degen 12]. Turns out this misfit has a treasure trove of historical content featuring her getting kung pow'd by the general public in all kinds of places you should never be caught slamming ham in. Maybe next time she can participate in the west's most notable pastimes: Cuckolding within 300 yards of a 7-Eleven.
Lulz tier verbal diarrhea from the worlds top experts. It's a good thing emotional scars aren't visible on the outside or some these girls would look like Freddy Kruger.
I gotta say; supreme vag on the redhead. Haven't seen a pair of lips that impressive since the time I got caught with a VHS rip of Fast Times at Ridgemont High and the last jar of Smuckers Sweet Orange Marmalade. Mother's Day hasn't been the same since.
If the first chick doesn't have the look of a girl that's admitted to losing her virginity to a mailbox, I don't know what is. A moment that was probably about as unintentional as me using Cowabunga Bay Water's wave pool as my own personal porta potty. Apologies to visitors between years of 1998 - 2013.
2002-2004. An era of professionally produced pornography that should probably be forgotten. Not a single penetration was made, yet I feel like I've been fucked by spare tires and empty cans of Busch Light after sitting through this atrocity. The line dropped at 2:30 really makes you wonder how many Marlboro Miles these guy were paid for the scene.
A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
Auto-fellaters, Braingasms and a straight up public service announcement fists should only be use in a boxing ring. Today's episode is more unforgiving than my local mall security that time I was discovered defecating in Anthropologie's Aromatic and Ambiance fragrance section.
A solid plot line can make up for just about anything: Bad acting, low budgets, the marionette scene in Terrifier 2. But this assortment of genetic defects? They've got digital footprints like Tom Cruise has regressive Aspergers, and I don't know when this fucking ride is gonna end.
