This dude ejaculates Grey Poupon. Straight up. It's the most bedazzling shit I've seen since that picture of Mike Tyson appearing on a dog's asshole. Be sure to keep a towel handy in case you vomit and/or nut.
What's mine is yours. And what's yours makes her think walking away from that 4-year degree in Anthropological Gender Studies of Amazonian Tree Frogs to do this instead was a bad idea.
Show me a woman that puts this much emotion into her goose hole jabberwocky, and I'll show you the kind of 90-Day Fiance episodes actually worth watching. Now somebody knock down a retaining wall so big Ed can get his neck through the door, and lets start the sequel.
Meet the Helen Keller of casual sex. At first I was like cool, another fake video I'm exposing my White Snake loincloth too... and then I realized this is 100% legit and should be in the first chapter of every sign language program in the country. Hit me up Rosetta Stone.
Kinda off topic, but 8 hrs ago it seemed like a good idea to eat 64 slices of American Cheese and wash it down with a bottle of gin. Then someone had the gall to say Have a good morning to me. Listen mom, unless you have a sewing kit and extensive knowledge of battle wounds, your request is permanently denied.
In the bowels of Brazil a.k.a. the other other Mexico, a local stripper gives a weary traveler an experience he'll never forget... if he can remember. He goes home with a dildo souvenir so he'll definitely know something went down that night. #YOLO
A dozen volumes and all we can learn is a two-pack of Coors Light gives the confidence one needs to perform like a deranged circus animal. But today? That education is free. Practice what you see here and I promise them size 14 Bumble girls will never "lmao" at you again. More: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-] [-8-] [-9-] [-10-] [-11-]
Some men need oral stimulation to get off. Others, a $20 shopping spree at Buffalo Wild Wings. And then there's this Vlad the Impaler lookin' mother fucker who needs nothing more than basic silverware to send his himself over the big-O rainbow. Hint: May be better enjoyed while listening to this classic piece.
Not exactly the most unexpected chain of events from a class of people that come less prepared for war than whoevers handicap stall I invaded at Waffle House last week. Sorry Wheels, but the bucket in the janitor's closet simply doesn't meet my capacity standard.
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]
