Today's visuals couldn't get better if you slammed an Ambien cocktail and hit the boardwalk wearing nothing but a smile and Walmart's finest body spray. Speaking of New Jersey, not even [-carl-] himself would be caught $7 dollars deep in whatever spawned in the last clip.
Naturally occurring clay has impurities such as rocks & sand in it. There's a way to filter these impurities by planting a female of breeding age directly into the Earth. In this video I start by digging approximately 5 feet into the ground. Then applied our volunteer. This was done a number of times until they realized working retail at Walmart was a better idea after all.
Tripling down on a sub-culture that has defied all odds and normalized paying for content less interesting than giving Betty White 15 unsupervised minutes with a lawn sprinkler. These hype machines never seem to deliver. But the ones that come up really short? These might get a nut or 5 out of you. [PART I] [PART II]
If you think that number is talking about hog dimensions, you will be sorely mistaken. It seems this attraction has stricter height limitations than Six Flag's El Toro. You gotta measure less than 4 feet tall, well-versed in THOTology and be next in line for a fight with Jake Paul. Brutal. Part 1 [HERE] Part 2 [HERE] Support [HERE]
The reality of having less musical talent than an asthmatic hedgehog must have hit her like a sac of 90's PSA videos and she needed clout, badly. How can life get any worse you ask? Well... I'll let searches for "how do you stitch a butthole" answer that.
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
The smile this dude gives off whilst getting his first dick-suck is fucking priceless. Worthy of it's own emoticon. Same goes for the someone-just-farted-in-my-face expression he exhibits once he realizes said blowjob has ended. Every 15 frames lies a Kodak moment.
Prozac-deficient e-girls are a welcomed sight here at eFukt... but this post isn't about the daddy issues. It's about intensity. These temper tantrums cut deeper than a Twitter feed, and while that might not be saying much, I'm confident you'll be impressed.
There's a thin line between trailer park erotica, and soul-deep emotional trauma. Where that line exists I don't know... but judging by the amount of dollar store tattoos I'm seeing on that body, I'd say this human Hindenburg sure as fuck does.
