It's not even the fact that these fetishes exist. It's that some of these creaturas are banking a yearly salary after swimming through an Arby's dumpster for 3 minutes so Jungle Jack in Frogdick Mississippi can have beat off material for the week. We might not be in end times. But intermission was a long time ago.
At first I was positive this was the same woman that keeps invading my Instagram feed with videos about blowing circus clowns and publicly shaming herself for having the vaginal odor of a Sudanese outhouse. But her (un)puckered starburst having the towing capacity of a Dodge Ram 3500 proved otherwise.
Turns out fertilizing your own family tree isn't the only extra curricular activity people practice in Frogballs, Arkansas. Just don't be misled by The Rat King's lack of hygiene; Your respect for the modern day alpha male begins here and now.
The only thing more arousing than a mother renting our her own flesh and blood to the tune of a 2 for 1 BOGO flash sale, is the sequel of a mother renting our her own flesh and blood to the tune of a 2 for 1 BOGO flash sale. I don't know about you but my shrimp roll just got supersized.
Congratz! Local Russian folklore states that if you are visited by the naked battle gypsy of St. Pete you will be forever blessed by good fortune. Don't look directly at her vagina though, or they say she'll curse you with impotence.
Today, a 19-year-old works their way into college and learns shit like Trigonometry, or Sudanese Rectal Massage Theory. Others are in it for the networking. Me? I moved to skidrow and documented hobos smoking meth while performing communal rimjobs. Revolutionary at the time... but even I never witnessed the fabled "Hammer Head" seen here. GL HF
Go ahead and label this the blurring of lines between equality in the work place and PTSD, as illustrated by sex acts that have led more adult diaper sales than In n' Out's Animal Style. Never before has adult entertainment made me prouder of my cataclysmic cache of Walmart rewards points.
See? Not every post here has to be about unsuitable bodily penetrations and the Montana residents that love them. Sometimes you gotta slow down and appreciate women that would charge $99.99 to drop ship you their fart jars. Ask me how I know.
The lore actually goes deeper than you could have ever imagined. It's not about the volume of anonymous vagabond cocks. It's not about the money. It's about sending a [fucking] message.
This one taught me two things: A) Breaking points are negotiable and B) Any case studies of being on the spectrum and in porn can now be cancelled. Dorkalina's got us covered.